


Rising Stars and Full Circles

by Kurenaito



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Anime/Manga Fusion, Arthurian, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, F/M, First Love, Friendship, Next Generation, Original Character(s), Shibusen | DWMA, Twenty Years Later, Unofficial Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-10 11:22:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 52
Words: 325,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7842979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kurenaito/pseuds/Kurenaito
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two decades after Asura's defeat, life has settled back into its normal rhythm, but there will always be those that seek to harm the world. Luckily, there will always be heroes ready to rise up and stop them, even if those heroes don't believe in themselves quite yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Destined Duo; DWMA's Rising Star Approaches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was originally posted on Fanfiction.net and can still be found there. I wanted to bring it to a different site, both to share it with a new audience, and to protect it in case one site or another has some sort of catastrophic failure. That said, it's kind of long, so it may take me a while to get everything updated. Feel free to look for it on FF.net (where my name is FourthDistraction) if you just can't wait.
> 
> Some Notes: This work blends together the manga and anime worlds, taking elements from each. Most of the time, I follow the manga, but some things such as keeping Mifune alive come from the anime. Technology-wise, I'm putting the level of tech in the original anime at somewhere in the 90s, so this fic moves the whole world forward so that everyone's at today's level of technology (cellphones, laptops, the internet…etc.)

**PROLOGUE**

**Destined Duo; DWMA's Rising Star Approaches**

* * *

When Maka Albarn was leaving home for her first day at the DWMA, Spirit had stood in her room and cried, loudly and embarrassingly, proclaiming how proud he was of her and how sad he was that she was growing up. He had continued the crying almost all the way to the school, until she finally put her foot down and left him around the corner to take her first steps into the institution by herself. It had been a sour note in what, for all intents and purposes, had been a very good and very important day, and she'd sworn silently to herself that if she ever had children of her own, she would keep it together a little bit better. For the most part, she'd kept that promise.

Still, standing alone in Rei's childhood room while waiting for him to finish getting ready, Maka wondered if there might not be a little more of her father in her than she thought.

She didn't want to cry, because that would _definitely_ ruin Rei's day, so instead she walked quietly around the room, putting things in order as she listened to the sound of the shower coming from the bathroom down the hall. She picked a T-shirt up off the floor, giving it a quick sniff before wrinkling up her nose and tossing it in the laundry hamper, straightened the guitar case that was propped up against the wall before it fell over. She smoothed down the edge of a concert poster, a faint smile coming to her face as she remembered the day Soul and Rei had returned from the concert, Rei riding on Soul's shoulders. She picked books up off the ground, setting them gently on their shelves, straightened out the sheets without going so far as to make the bed, picked up a portable gaming system from where it lay forgotten and put it up on the desk. Little things, here and there, to make the room a little more livable. They weren't things she would have to do for much longer.

She straightened up from organizing the bookshelves, dusting her hands off on her knees. A piece of paper on the floor caught her eye and she picked it up, holding it carefully up to the light. The smile tugged at her lips, widening even as she felt her heart grow heavy. It was a crayon picture drawn in a child's hand, a crudely drawn stick-figure of a boy standing in front of a house, two smaller girls on either side of him. They were all smiling. There was a note scrawled in purple crayon in the top corner.

_For Big Brother, From Annie_

_We <3 You_

The picture had to be at least two years old. Annie's handwriting was much better now. It looked like it had been folded and unfolded again, like Rei had looked at it recently. She remembered how easily embarrassed boys could be at that age and folded it carefully, tucking it just under the edge of Rei's laptop and pretending she didn't see. Her eyes misted over in spite of her earlier promise as she took a step back. She wasn't going to cry, she told herself, taking a deep breath and patting her cheeks. Not at all.

The shower stopped running.

"Mom, are you in here?" asked a voice, making Maka turn around. Rei was standing in the doorway, his blond hair still damp from the shower and already sticking up every which way. His eyes were Soul's eyes, red. He tugged uncomfortably at the tie he was wearing, the button-down shirt and pants beneath it resembling the school uniform that Maka had spent most of her earlier DWMA days wearing as well. He wore a dark colored jacket over it, collar unbuttoned and tie loose.

She gave in to the urge to straighten it, buttoning his collar and fixing his tie before attempting to smooth out his hair. Rei squirmed, making a half-hearted attempt to pull away.

"Mom—," he said.

"Just for today," said Maka with a smile, stepping back from him and lowering her hands to his shoulders. "After tomorrow, I promise you won't have to worry about it at all."

Just saying the words made the knot in her heart tighten, but she put on a brave face, looking down at the teenage boy standing in front of her and letting her hands fall back to her side. Rei lowered his eyes to the ground, shuffling awkwardly, and she wondered if she might not be the only one feeling a little sad. She knew better than to call him out on it, though.

"Is this okay?" Rei asked.

She looked over what Rei was wearing one last time, her eyes lingering on the tag he had pinned to his chest, the one reading MEISTER in big block letters. Pride and sadness wove together somewhere in her chest.

"You look fine," she said, placing one hand on Rei's shoulder and squeezing it. "Come on, you don't want to be late."

She left the room first, Rei following close behind her.

"Dad left already?" he asked as they walked down the stairs.

Maka nodded. "The girls had to leave early for school," she said. "They didn't want to go." If she was in a betting mood, she would have said that Soul didn't want to go either, but Rei wasn't the only one that would get embarrassed about things like that, so she kept that to herself. She looked back at her son as he paused at the door, bending down to pick up his shoes.

"Oh," he said. "I kinda—uh—wanted to say goodbye." A flush spread across his face as he looked away, tugging his shoes onto his feet. Maka wanted to stop him, to drag him back into the living room and tell him 'next year, how about next year?', but she clenched her fist against the urge instead, smiling and ruffling his hair.

"You'll tell them tonight," she said. "When you come back with your new partner."

_Partner._

She felt the change in Rei the moment she said the word, felt him pull himself away from her. He looked down at the ground, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he followed her out the door. Maka frowned, but locked up behind her, waiting for Rei to speak. When he didn't, she spoke first.

"Everything alright, Rei?" she asked.

"Yeah," said Rei, following her onto the sidewalk as they started walking towards the DWMA. "I just…what if I never find a partner? What if no one resonates with me?"

The words, achingly similar to her own reservations the day she stepped out of her house to head to the DWMA, made the knot tighten some more. She stopped walking and reached out, resting her arm on his shoulders in a one-armed hug. "What, someone as sweet as you?" she asked. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "You'll find a partner, Rei. Don't worry."

"But what if—?" Rei began.

"It will be okay," said Maka, smiling as she pulled away. She caught a glimpse of Rei's soul, seated deep within him, scared, but putting on a brave front. Warm. Kind, with the hint of something that might have been wings. She had no doubt in her mind that _someone_ would resonate with her son today. "I promise, it will be okay. Don't worry."

"But what if it isn't?" asked Rei. "What if I really can't find a partner?"

"Then we'll love you anyway," said Maka. "And you can always keep trying. Sometimes, it takes a while."

"Annie and Cori—," Rei began.

"—are _seven_ ," Maka finished. "And _not_ ready for the DWMA."

Thankfully. Maka didn't think she could handle it.

"But how will I know if I've found the right partner?" Rei asked. "How will I know I'm not making a mistake?"

"You'll know," said Maka, remembering the day she had taken Soul's hand, the day he performed for her. "When it feels right, you'll know." She tugged at Rei's hand to get him moving again. "Come on. You're going to be late."

Despite his misgivings, Rei started walking, and despite her own misgivings, Maka let him walk up the steps to the school, leaving him in the courtyard with the other new students as she walked into the building.

Without Rei.

It felt like her heart was going to fall apart, but she'd managed to do it without shedding any tears. She smiled, proud of herself, and stubbornly wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand before walking towards the faculty lounge. Already, the DWMA's older students were filling the halls, talking excitedly about the new crop of first years. She saw a few people with WEAPON or MEISTER tags on, already mingling with each other. So many of them and so young. Her smile widened in spite of herself, and she walked into the faculty lounge, stopping at her desk to pick up the things she needed for class. Rei would be fine. By this time tonight, she and Soul would likely be meeting his new partner.

Maka glanced down at the photograph on her desk, smiling as she remembered how they were when they were that age. It was a picture taken back during the Spartoi days, before Kid's ascension. They were all so young. She hadn't realized it at the time, but age had given her a new way of looking at things. She picked up the frame and studied it, names and faces coming back to her as her eyes lingered on each one.

They stopped at the weapon and meister pair on the corner nearest her thumb, next to her and Soul. Tsubaki was smiling serenely at the camera as, next to her, Black Star crouched down, striking a pose. A thought nagged at her then, an idea stirring in the back of her mind as she ran her thumb over the two of them.

Yes, she thought, as she counted the years in her mind. It would _be_ about that time…

Maka set down the picture, raising her hand to her mouth and stifling a giggle at the thought. She wondered if—but no, Rei had to do this on his own.

Still, she thought, wouldn't that be something?

Still smiling, she put the picture back down and gathered up her things for class.

* * *

Despite the brave face he had tried to put on for his mom on the walk over here so that she wouldn't freak out and draw him back inside the house or something, Rei was abjectly miserable. It had been two hours since Sid had gathered the new first years in the courtyard and let them loose with the only instruction being to mingle, and already Rei was trying very hard not to hate his existence. He wasn't the most extroverted of people, but since their only task for today was to get to know other people and try to find a partner, he'd done his part to single out and talk to the weapons that arrived. He'd even attempted resonating with a few and had a burned hand and a black mood to show for it. Since then, he'd restricted himself to handshakes, figuring out pretty quickly that his mom was right, he could _tell_ when it wouldn't work out. But even that hadn't given him much luck. To make it worse, people were _already_ beginning to drift off into pairs and break away from the group, which didn't help his feeling that he'd be the last one standing alone at the dance.

This was a stupid system for partnering up, Rei thought, his hands jammed morosely into his pockets as he rounded the corner. Why couldn't they just…take a personality test, or something? That would be so much easier.

"Hey, Rei!" said a familiar voice.

Rei lifted his head at the sound, turning towards the boy standing at the other end of the hallway, his hand raised in greeting. The boy had short brown hair, teased up into slight spikes in places. He wore an earring in one ear, glinting silver, and his eyes were a steel gray. He was still dressed in the perfectly symmetrical uniform of Shibuko, the Death Weapon Orphanage that Shinigami-sama had set up for young weapons that had been abandoned by their families.

In spite of his dark mood, Rei put a grin on his face, raising his hand as well.

"Hey, Vayne," he said, reaching out and bumping fists. "Still wearing the uniform, huh?"

Vayne grinned, taking a step back and straightening up proudly. "Didn't have much else to wear," he said. "You find a partner yet?"

Rei frowned. Vayne Damocles was one of his oldest friends, and he would have already been rushing to partner with Vayne already if not for the fact that they just didn't resonate. At all. They'd tried.

"Not yet," he said. "You?"

"Have a few prospects," said Vayne, grinning. "Haven't settled on one yet, though. What's the rush, right?"

"Yeah," said Rei, feeling just a little more miserable. "Right."

Vayne frowned, as if noticing his mood. "We could try again if you like," he said, holding out a hand.

"Nah," said Rei, shaking his head. "I've already burnt my hands once today. Besides, the last time we tried that, it went…badly."

"That's true," said Vayne. "Well, hang in there, man. Introduce me to your weapon when you find one."

"Yeah, sure," said Rei. "When."

Vayne clapped him once on the shoulder as they passed each other, the two of them heading to opposite ends of the hallway. Rei shrugged and slipped his hands back into his pockets, doing his best not to envision life in the EAT class without a weapon partner. He _really_ didn't want to end up working at Deathbucks like Hero. He shuddered. If he couldn't find a weapon, maybe he could just quit. Wait for the twins to grow up. Except waiting for your younger sisters was just so not cool, and everyone _expected_ him to find a weapon today. How could he not? He was the son of Maka-freaking-Evans and the last Death Scythe.

He was so going to put in a vote for that personality test.

Rei sucked in a breath, reminding himself that it wasn't the end of the world and that there was still plenty of time left in the day. Surely he wouldn't be the _only_ one left partnerless. Lots of people took a while to find weapons or meisters. Of course, most of those people were in the NOT class, but hey, he had to look on the bright side of things.

Hero. Deathbucks.

He thought he was going to be sick.

Rei took a deep breath, because getting sick on the first day of school was definitely not cool, and decided to make for the courtyard again. A lot of the other first-years had gathered there, and a few latecomers were starting to filter in. Who knew? Maybe he'd see something interesting.

He stepped outside into the hot desert wind and nearly walked straight into a brawl.

Well, it wasn't a brawl, really. It was more of a _commotion._ Someone was shouting from within the tight knot of first-years clustered in the main courtyard. No, wait, some _ones._ Two people.

"You cut my _hands_!" someone, a boy was shouting. "What's the _matter_ with you?"

"It's not _my_ fault!" said a girl's voice, loudly. There was something about this voice that he recognized somehow, something from long ago. "How is it my fault if you can't handle me?!"

"Ow, ow, ow, what the hell?!" shouted the boy. "What the hell is wrong with your soul? Freak!"

Rei stepped down into the courtyard, pushing his way into the crowd. They parted for him, letting him catch a glimpse of a dark-haired boy with glasses kneeling on the ground, his palms bleeding from multiple cuts and scratches of varying depth. Blood dripped onto the stones beneath him as he cradled them close to his body, hissing in pain as he glared at the teal-haired girl in front of him. The people around him were already moving to help him, some of them giving the girl wary glances as well.

The girl took a step back and looked around, her eyes frantically moving from the man on the ground to the people beginning to surround him, to the students shooting angry, distrustful glances at her. Her eyes widened, some of the color draining from her face before she clenched her fists at her side, drawing herself up straighter.

"Well, forget it!" she said. "Screw you all! I don't need you! I'll go solo!"

Before Rei could say anything, she pushed her way through the crowd, running past him.

As she moved, he thought he saw something glistening in her eyes.

* * *

It took him a while to find the girl. The path she had taken out of the courtyard was easy enough to follow—she had pretty much bulldozed her way through all the onlookers, leaving a clear path in her wake, but from there she vanished like smoke. He finally found her on one of the DWMA's upper floors, a balcony that overlooked the city. She was crouched in the shadow, her back to him, like she had tripped and fallen and decided not to bother getting up. Her face was turned away.

Rei stopped and looked at her before he approached, trying to place her. He knew this girl, had met her sometime before. He was sure of that. Thick teal hair, falling past her shoulders and halfway down her back, a lock of it tied up in a small side ponytail on the left side of her head. She was dressed in dark clothes, a sleeveless black top with a few designs in white, dark pants, boots, black fingerless gloves. Her skin was slightly tanned, as if she'd seen more of the sun than he had recently. There was a mark on her right shoulder, an area where the skin was lighter than its surroundings.

A star.

With a sudden jolt, Rei realized that he knew this girl.

"Oh," he said, stepping forward with his hands in his pockets. "It's the loudmouth."

She sniffed, rubbing at her eyes with the back of her hand before looking up at him. Her eyes were clearly red-rimmed, but the glare she shot him stopped him from mentioning it. A memory flashed through his mind, a girl from his childhood, back when he was still nothing more than a toddler. A teal-haired girl in a light blue dress, with gray eyes and a grin. She'd moved away when he was young, something about her parents wanting to travel the world. A name came to him. Her name.

"Oh," she said, her voice thick as she looked him over. "It's the scaredy-cat."

He smiled, taking another step towards her. Now that she was facing him, he could see the tag pinned just over her heart, in big block letters.

WEAPON.

Her eyes moved over him as well, taking in the tag pinned to his own chest before moving back to his face.

"So, you're a meister, huh?" she asked, trying to sound casual despite the way she was still on the ground, the thickness in her voice that told him her throat was still tight. "Bet you're just dying to have a weapon like me, aren't you? That's why you're here, isn't it? To cry and beg for me to partner with you?"

 _I'm not the one crying,_ Rei thought, his eyes looking over her. _You are._

But she knew that as well as he did.

So he smiled instead, extending a hand out to her. "Yeah," he said. "That's exactly right."

The girl sniffled again, looking up at him with baleful eyes. They moved from his face to his outstretched hand and back to his eyes and he felt something. A tremor somewhere deeper than his skin, deeper than his heart. His soul.

" _When it feels right, you'll know_ ," his mother had said.

He knew. He wondered if she did too.

"Well," she said, tentatively shifting her closed fist out from under her. "I was gonna go solo. But I guess I can take pity on you. Just this once."

She reached up, her fingers hesitantly uncurling from their fist as they reached his outstretched hand. The tips of her fingers brushed against his and then, as if she was making a decision, her hand suddenly surged forward, clasping his fully.

He smiled, tightening his grip as she used it to pull herself to her feet. They stood for a while, hands clasped, facing each other eye-to-eye. Her face broke into a grin and he found himself returning it.

She spoke first. "Long time no see, Rei."

"Yeah," he said. "Long time no see, Ayame."

* * *

They reported back to Sid-sensei, then spent the rest of the allotted time catching up on lost years. Ayame told the story about how her parents decided to move away from Death City and travel the globe, chasing down monsters and lost souls and doing difficult missions for the DWMA. She'd lived pretty much everywhere in the eight years since he'd seen her, she said, seen pretty much everything.

"And what about you?" Ayame asked, as they were having lunch in the shade of one of the training forest's trees, watching the dwindling crowd of first-years still trying to pair off. "Stayed in Death City?"

"Stayed in Death City," Rei confirmed, eating the sandwich his mother had packed for him. "Mom has a class to teach and Dad has to stay close in case he's needed, so, y'know." He shrugged one shoulder indifferently.

"Cool," said Ayame. "So I guess you know all the places to be, huh? I haven't been here in _forever_. I don't know where anything is at all."

"Well, there's not really places to be," said Rei, taking a bite. "It's just Death City. I mean, it's not really boring, but you know."

"Well, you won't be bored now," said Ayame, flopping back down on the grass. "I'm back in town." She smiled contentedly, closing her eyes.

"Yeah," said Rei with a smile. "I guess I won't be."

He finished off his sandwich.

A few hours later, Sid came back for the class, gathering the EAT students into one of the empty classrooms, Class Moonless Night according to the sign posted on the door. He had them take seats in the amphitheater style classroom, standing at the bottom with a clipboard. Once they were all seated, he cleared his throat, raising the clipboard in front of him and beginning to speak in a booming voice.

"Alright," he said. "I've got the list of names and partners for this year's EAT class. If you don't hear your name, come up to the front and I'll try and fix it for you. That's the kind of man I was. Ready? Listen close."

He cleared his throat.

"Rhythm Altair and Raimu Kitazawa."

A pair of girls in the front of the room grinned, raising their hands.

"Morgan Fay and Cassandra Crane."

Somewhere in the back of the room, Rei saw a dark-haired girl raise a hand slowly, seated next to a blond girl with a pair of light pink headphones on. The other girl was smiling.

"Clark Greysteil and Vayne Damocles."

"Yo," said Vayne, from two rows above Rei. He was leaning back in his seat, his feet up on the desk. Vayne's meister, another blond with a pair of glasses on his face, smiled uncertainly and raised his hand.

Sid checked their names off the list, then glanced back down at the clipboard. He paused over the next pair of names, then looked up, scanning the classroom.

"Rei Evans and Ayame Star."

Ayame picked Rei's hand up and raised it along with hers, her face breaking into a grin.

* * *

The roster for Class Moonless Night appeared on her desk a few minutes after class ended, sealed in a brown paper envelope. Maka did her best to resist, but found that she couldn't help herself. She picked it up, telling herself that she just wanted to start learning her students' names and she wasn't abusing her privilege as faculty at all. Her eyes scanned the list eagerly, but she forced herself to give each name and partnership an equal amount of consideration instead of just doing what she wanted to do, which was search frantically for Rei's name.

Still, she couldn't help the grin that appeared on her face when she saw it.

Maka set the piece of paper back down on her desk, reaching for her phone. She dialed a number, holding it to her ear. It rang twice, before a feminine voice on the other end said "Hello?"

"Tsubaki-chan," said Maka, smiling. "I have so much to tell you."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On names: Rei means 'spirit/soul', fitting considering what his father's name is and what his grandfather's name is. Ayame means 'iris'.


	2. Can We Be Friends Too?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I was moving the level of tech in the world up to today's level, but Maka and Soul have a corded phone at their house for this opening scene. Indulge me.
> 
> On the twins: Maka has some Japanese heritage, but they live in America and Spirit and Soul are both not Japanese, so they don't call Rei 'onii-chan' or any variant of that.

**CHAPTER ONE**

**Can We Be Friends Too?**

* * *

Soul "Eater" Evans, last Death Scythe of the DWMA, stepped through the front door to the sound of excited conversation coming from the living room. He scowled, one hand on the doorknob as he watched Maka crouch over the living room phone from where she was kneeling on the couch, one hand cupped around the mouthpiece to muffle the sound of her voice as she spoke into it.

"—I know, they're just so _cute!"_ Soul heard her say.

A muffled voice, equally as excited, sounded from the earpiece. It was a woman's voice, and Soul was willing to bet he knew exactly which woman it was. Maka raised her wrist to her mouth to muffle a giggle.

"We would have the cutest grandkids," she said in response to whatever Tsubaki was saying.

O-kay, this was getting weird. Drops of sweat formed on the back of Soul's head as he cleared his throat loudly, closing the door behind him with a definite sound. Maka sat up sharply, sitting back on her heels and looking over her shoulder.

"Oh, Soul," she said, covering the mouthpiece of the phone with her other hand. "You're back already?"

"Just picking up the last couple of boxes," Soul said, glancing pointedly up the stairs towards Rei's room. "You coming, or are you…" He gestured vaguely at the phone.

Maka's eyes widened, as if she'd lost track of time. She lifted her hand from the mouthpiece, speaking quickly into it. "Sorry, Tsubaki-chan, I have to go." A pause, during which that same muffled voice sounded from the earpiece. "Yes, yes, I'll tell her." Another pause. "Of course, you have to visit soon!" … "Okay, bye." She hung up, replacing the phone in its cradle. Now that she was done talking to Tsubaki, some of the excitement seemed to have left her, and she slid her feet out from under her and onto the ground slowly, as if she wanted to draw this out as long as possible. Soul watched her, feeling his expression soften.

"You ready for this?" he asked.

"I don't know," Maka admitted. She took a deep breath, then put a smile on her face. "But it's not going to get any easier, so we should get it over with, right?"

"Yeah," said Soul. To be honest, he wasn't feeling too sure about this either, but it was a rite of passage and all that. Besides, he told himself, it was only a couple of miles up the road.

"Yeah," he said again, before either of them could get any second thoughts. "Yeah, let's go."

* * *

 _It's only a couple of miles up the road,_ Rei thought to himself, standing in his childhood room for the last time. From the hallway, he still heard muffled sobbing, making his stomach churn uncomfortably. Annie had started crying while coming in to say goodbye, so Cori had taken her out into the hallway to try to calm her down. He told himself that he couldn't shape his life around the whims of a seven-year-old and he wasn't actually the worst big brother ever.

 _Just a couple of miles,_ he told himself again, looking around at how the room had changed. Since he was moving so close to home, he hadn't taken _all_ of his things, leaving most of his books and posters, but he'd taken all of the books he hadn't gotten around to reading yet, his guitar, his games, and most of his clothes, and the room felt barren without those things. His new room in the apartment the DWMA had leased out to him was still very bare, nothing but a bed and boxes piled high. It would be a long weekend spent getting everything in order.

He took a deep breath, trying to shake off the heavy feeling in his stomach as he turned to leave his room, reminding himself that Ayame was already there and waiting for him. Reminding himself that this was supposed to be _exciting._

"Rei?" his mom called from downstairs, her voice ringing in the hallway. "Are you ready to go?"

 _Now or never,_ he thought, turning towards the door. He braced himself for whatever he would find in the hallway, then pushed it open.

The sound of crying had grown softer now, accompanied by the sound of another voice hushing the crying girl. He turned to see Annie standing with her back to the wall, her face in her hands. Cori was standing in front of her, quietly shushing her, her hands on her sister's arms. The two of them were identical, long silver hair and green eyes and matching black dresses, but in personality, they were about as different as they could be. Annie wore part of her hair up in a pair of small pigtails. Cori kept hers down.

"Come on, Annie," Cori was saying. "Come on. Don't you wanna come see Rei's house?"

"I don't wanna see Rei's house, because Rei lives _here_!" Annie said. "I don't want him to leave!" She shook her head, burying her face further in her hands. In response, Cori took a step back helplessly, looking up at Rei.

Rei walked up to her, crouching down so that he was at eye level with her and gently pulling her hands away from her face. Annie protested, squeezing her eyes shut and turning away.

"Annie," Rei said. "You know I have to go."

"No, you don't!" Annie said, still not looking at him. "You can stay here! With Ayame too!"

"And where's Ayame going to stay?" Rei asked, frowning at her. "She can't stay with me. Do you want her to stay in your room?"

Annie hesitated, sniffling.

"N-No…" she finally allowed. "My room's too small."

"And I bet it would be crowded with all three of you in it, wouldn't it?" Rei asked.

"Y-Yes." Annie reluctantly opened her eyes, taking in a shuddering breath. She blinked through her tears.

"I'm not going to be moving very far," Rei said. "You'll still see me a lot. But this is something I have to do, okay? For school. You're going to have to do it too when you're older—when you find a meister."

The whole time he talked, Cori was a silent presence at his side, her mouth pulled into a tight line. Rei glanced at her, then gave Annie a reassuring smile, releasing her hand to pat her on the head. "Come on," he said. "Don't you want to come see my new place? That way, you and Cori know where it is if you want to come over."

"You'll still come over lots, right?" Annie asked, blinking up at him.

Rei nodded. "And Mom teaches at my school, remember? So it's not like I'm going very far away."

Annie sniffed, rubbing at her eyes with her hand. "Okay," she said, holding out one small hand to him. "Let's go."

Rei straightened up, patting her on the head before taking her hand and leading her downstairs. He placed his hand on the back of Cori's head as he walked past, ruffling her hair affectionately before starting down the stairs. She followed, the three of them heading down to the living room where Soul was picking up the last of the boxes. He gestured to Rei's guitar case with his thumb.

"Grab that and put it in the back of the car," he said.

Rei nodded, releasing Annie's hand just long enough to sling it over his shoulder before picking up her hand again and walking out to the car. They piled in, Maka tousling his hair affectionately as she passed him and climbed into the front seat. He sat in the middle even though it was uncomfortable, because Annie was leaning against him like she didn't want to let go and Cori was looking out the window already, pretending not to look at him, and he didn't want to let her sit alone.

Without a word, Soul started the car, driving off down the street.

* * *

Ayame woke up to the sound of voices down the hall.

She opened her eyes, staring up at the ceiling from the futon she had spread out on the floor. Her room was dark—she'd fallen asleep after piling the last of her things into it—but there was a light on in the hallway and she could hear footsteps.

"So this is where my room will be," she heard Rei say, followed by a thump as he set something down. There were people with him, people whose footsteps were a lot lighter and a lot quicker. Kids, probably. She remembered Rei saying he had sisters.

Ayame grinned, rocking back on her shoulders and then rolling forward onto her feet. She opened her bedroom door, looking out into the hallway. The door to Rei's room was open and she could see him inside, her back to him. A girl with silver hair stood just behind him, and she could hear someone else in the room where she couldn't see. There were footsteps coming up the stairs, and she turned, smiling as Rei's parents made their way up the steps.

"Rei?" Maka was asking. "Do you have everything you need? Oh, hello, Ayame-chan. We didn't wake you, did we?"

"Yo, Maka-sensei. Mr. E," said Ayame, rocking back on her heels. "Nope. Not at all." In truth, she was a little bit jet-lagged from the flight from Egypt, but Rei's mom was her teacher and his dad was a Death Scythe and both of them collectively were her partner's parents, so she didn't want to admit to that.

_That's me! One super-awesome ninja weapon, awake, alert, alive and enthusiastic and ready to protect my meister and bring us both honor and glory!_

It was a nice thought, so she grinned wider.

"We're just dropping off some things for Rei, and then we'll be heading out," said Soul. "You guys have something to eat for tonight?"

"Uh…" She faltered there, her grin breaking slightly at the edges. Their fridge and pantry were fully stocked with all sorts of groceries, courtesy of Maka Albarn-Evans and her propensity towards forward thinking, but while Ayame's skills were vast and impressive in number, the ability to turn raw food into cooked food wasn't one of them. "I'm sure we'll figure something out," she said, which in this case meant _I hope your son can cook._

Soul grinned, which told her that she wasn't doing as great of a job of hiding that one glaring weakness as she thought. That bothered her, because as a ninja, she was _supposed_ to be good at hiding things. He reached into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. "Here," he said. "Why don't you guys call for pizza tonight?"

"Uh…"

Pride and honor and being the daughter of Tsubaki Nakatsukasa told her that she should refuse, but free food was free food. Ayame hesitated for a moment, tempted, but was spared from having to answer by Rei stepping out of his room and noticing her.

"Oh, Ayame," he said. "You're here. Wanna come meet my sisters?"

"Sure!" said Ayame, taking the escape route and ducking away from Soul, running towards her partner's room. "See you later, Mr. E!"

She stepped into the room as Rei moved aside to give her room, looking around. Like her room, Rei's was pretty bare, piled up with boxes and empty of furniture except the desk that came with the apartment. Unlike hers, Rei's room came with a Western-style bed, probably because he'd requested it.

The apartment itself wasn't bad, especially considering that it was student housing. It had two floors, the living room and kitchen taking up most of the downstairs, with their bedrooms and bathroom on the upper floor. A spiral staircase wound tightly around the middle of the apartment, connecting the two. The upstairs was a bit of a tight fit with the bedrooms, but the bedrooms themselves weren't cramped and the living room was spacious enough to work out in. She could live here for four years, she decided, pleased.

She looked around Rei's room, taking in the boxes labeled things like 'books', 'shoes', and 'gaming stuff', then turned towards the two girls waiting by the window. The twins were identical, but one of them stood to face her, watching expectantly, and the other hid half behind her brother.

"This is Annie," Rei said, gesturing to the shy twin. "And that's Cori."

They were both adorable. "Hi," Ayame said, grinning. "I'm Ayame."

"Hi," said Cori. "I'm a weapon too."

"Oh, are you?" asked Ayame, still grinning. "What kind?"

"I'm a scythe," said Cori, proudly, holding out one arm. It shifted in a flash, turning into a curving black blade. "Like Papa. Annie is too."

"That's awesome," said Ayame. She held out her arm, her hand shifting into a shorter, thicker version of Cori's scythe blade. Three gold stars ran down the flat of the blade, growing smaller in size as they neared the tip. "I'm sort of a scythe too."

Cori nodded, smiling as if that made complete sense. "Rei's a scythe meister like Mama. Grandpa says our family's all scythes and scythe meisters."

"Well," said Ayame with a smile, glancing at Rei. "Rei's _kind of_ a scythe meister."

Cori frowned. "What's that mean?" she asked.

"It means I'm only _kind of_ a scythe." Ayame reached out with her human hand, patting Cori on the head before she could ask any more questions. She wanted to keep _some_ things a surprise.

"Are you going to marry my brother?" Cori asked, all wide eyes and innocence.

Ayame choked. So did Rei.

"Cori!" Rei said, spluttering.

"What makes you think _that_?!" asked Ayame.

"Well," said Cori, rocking forward onto the balls of her feet and counting off on her hands. "Grandpa was Grandma's weapon, and then they got married. Then Mama and Papa were partners and then _they_ got married. So—."

"I'm _not_ marrying your brother!" said Ayame.

"Yeah!" said Rei. "She's not!"

They exchanged a glance and nodded at each other, both of them in complete accord.

"Well, like, not now," Cori said. "But maybe, like, later."

"Alright, that's enough. Bye, Cori, time to go back to Mom and Dad," said Rei, quickly placing his hands on Cori's shoulders and wheeling her out of the room on her heels. The two of them disappeared down the hallway, leaving Ayame alone with Annie.

"Um, hi," Ayame said, putting on a smile and waving her scythe hand.

Annie let out a squeak of terror, shrinking back and covering her eyes. Ayame frowned, glancing at her hand and letting it return to its human form.

Okay, so that didn't go too well.

Rei came back, gathering up Annie before Ayame could spook her too much and leaving the room. She heard footsteps descend the stairs, followed by Rei and his parents saying goodbye. Ayame listened just long enough to hear Maka say something about what to do if Rei's grandfather started showing up drunk around here before she turned away and started looking around the room, deciding that she probably shouldn't intrude, or something like that. Rei didn't have too much stuff, but it was still more than she would have expected.

She was watching the moon start to wake up from the window when Rei came back into the room. In the street below, a car's engine rumbled to life, headlights making their way down the road.

"Sorry about that," Rei said. "They can be a handful."

Ayame shook her head. "Your sisters are sweet," she said. "Not like my brother. He's a pain in the ass."

"Your brother?" Rei asked.

"Think me, but more obnoxious, less pretty, and less obviously socially gifted." Her eyes swept over the room as she turned to Rei, widening as they caught sight of a box by the window. "Whoa, you have a DeathStation 4. Sweet!" she said, pulling the box from the shelf. "Let's set this up!"

"You play games?" Rei asked.

"Yeah, I play games," Ayame said, grinning. She handed the console box to Rei, picking up the cardboard box labeled 'gaming stuff'. "What kind of games d'you got?" she asked, starting to open it.

"Hey!" said Rei, reaching out to take the box from her. She blinked at him, confused. Rei set the box down, straightening up and scratching the back of his head. He looked guilty. "I guess we can set it up," he said. "But we need to set up the TV too. My dad gave us money for pizza, by the way."

"That's great," said Ayame tentatively, still not sure what the outburst had been about. Her mom didn't like it when Ayame went through her things without asking for permission. Maybe it was something like that. "We can get pizza and play games."

"Sure, yeah," said Rei, fishing in his pocket for his phone. "Just, uh, here, I can call the pizza place."

He ran his thumb over the screen, about to dial the number when the doorbell downstairs ran. Both of them looked up, frowning in confusion as they turned towards the window. The street outside was empty, so whoever had come hadn't come in a car.

The doorbell rang again.

Rei exchanged a glance with her, then slipped his phone back into his pocket, moving down the stairs and into the darkened living room. Ayame followed him. The living room had the couch set up, but otherwise it was still looking pretty bare, with most of the things the two of them had brought still in boxes. Ayame knew her mom would be sending her some things too, by mail over the next couple of weeks.

"Hello?" Rei asked, opening the door.

Ayame frowned. A boy stood on the doorstep outside, with brown hair and gray eyes. She thought she recognized him from class. Vill—Vin—Van Helsing or something. He grinned, raising his hand in greeting.

"Hey, Rei," he said.

"Vayne," said Rei, opening the door wider. "What's up?"

"Nothing much," said Vayne, slipping his hands back into his jacket pockets. "Clark and I just moved in. We're a couple of blocks that way." He pointed up down the street. "Thought I'd come by and see how you guys were doing."

"Same as you," said Rei. "We just moved in."

"Yeah, I saw your parents' car pull out," said Vayne. "I'm surprised your mom didn't try to lock you in your room or something."

"Mom held it together pretty well," said Rei, shrugging. "It was Annie that pitched a fit."

Ayame looked between the two of them in confusion. Rei seemed to be ignoring her, all of his attention focused on Vayne. She looked from one to the other again before looking back at Rei.

"Uh, Rei?" she asked. "Who's this?"

"Oh yeah," said Rei, blinking at her as if just remembering that she was there. "Vayne, this is Ayame, my partner. Ayame, Vayne, one of my best friends."

_Best friends._

Ayame frowned at Vayne as he extended a hand to her, his mouth spread into a grin. "Nice to meet ya," Vayne said. "I'm a weapon too. Can't say I'm too jealous though, you getting stuck with this guy." He jerked the thumb of his free hand in Rei's direction.

"Hey," said Rei, scowling. "I'm not _that_ bad."

Ayame's frown deepened, but she did reach out, tentatively taking Vayne's hand. He clasped it briefly, letting go.

"Nice meeting you," she said.

"You wanna come in?" Rei asked, swinging the door open wider. "We were gonna call for pizza, maybe set up the DeathStation."

"Nah, I'm good," said Vayne, slipping his hands back in his pockets. "Just came by to say hi. Our apartment's a mess. See you in class tomorrow?"

"Yeah, definitely," said Rei. The two of them reached out, Vayne bumping fists with Rei before leaving.

Ayame watched, lingering a little behind Rei as her partner closed the door and locked it. She hesitated as Rei turned back towards her, unable to shake the sudden heavy feeling in her chest.

"What's up?" Rei asked, noticing her changed expression.

She shook her head, putting a smile on her face. "Nothing," she said. "So, pizza?"

* * *

"Why didn't you partner up with Vayne?" Ayame asked a little later, over pizza.

Rei frowned at her over his slice. They were sitting across from each other on the low table in the living room in front of the TV, boxes piled around them. She said the words nonchalantly, but she wasn't looking at him as she spoke, sitting turned away from him as she picked at a piece of pepperoni.

Something was bothering her, but he didn't know what. "We never resonated," he said with a shrug, deciding not to worry about it now. He took a bite of pizza. "We tried as kids. It just never worked out."

"Huh." Ayame picked an olive off the slice she was studying, flicking it disdainfully back into the box. Her expression grew far off for a minute before she nodded suddenly, as if making a decision. Her eyes narrowed, her expression growing determined as she set the slice down and rolled to her feet.

"Alright," she said, extending a hand towards Rei. "Come on!"

Rei blinked up at her. "Huh?"

"You've never actually seen my form, right?" Ayame asked. "Let's give it a try."

"Right now?" Rei asked, looking around the living room and at the box of pizza in front of him.

"Yeah," said Ayame. "I mean, class starts tomorrow, right? Do you wanna start training before you even know what I can do?"

Rei considered the pizza one last time before coming to a decision. He nodded, setting his slice down and dusting his fingers off on his pants. "Alright," he said, taking her hand and letting her pull him to his feet. "You're a kusarigama, right?"

Ayame tilted her head to the side, smiling mischievously as if she was trying to conceal a secret. "Yeah, I am," she said, before disappearing in a flash of light. A weight settled into his palms, his hands closing around comfortable leather grips. As the light faded, he looked down.

Ayame's kusarigama form was black, a black chain hanging between the two small hand-scythes. The blades curved wickedly in his hands, gleaming black metal with three gold stars set into the flats. The stars grew smaller as the blade grew narrower, the blade tapering off at a point.

He shifted his grip on the one in his right hand, testing the feeling. He'd practiced scythe-wielding with Annie and Cori before and this felt similar. Not the same—the chain lent the weapon a new element of weight, but comfortable. Not because he already knew what to do, because he didn't, but because it was Ayame. He held the blades up and tried a pair of tentative cuts, moving each blade downward diagonally. The chain, which he had first thought might get in the way, seemed to move aside for him as he shifted his weight into the cuts, and he realized that Ayame was moving too.

" _How's it feel?"_ he heard Ayame ask, her voice floating up from the kusarigama in his hands. She sounded happy, like she might have been grinning.

"Feels good," Rei said. "A little weird, but I think I can get used to it." He tried a few more hesitant cuts and slashes, the blades moving slowly in horizontal and vertical cuts as he tried to shift his weight in a way that made the cuts feel right. Ayame was moving into the slashes, making them feel straight, but he was having a harder time trying to figure out how to position himself, how to make the most of their partnership. He figured that was alright. That was what they were at the DWMA to learn, after all.

He swept the left-hand scythe around in a wide arc, the blade turned outward. That time, the cut felt right, like he and Ayame were in sync. He found himself smiling as he came to a stop, lowering the blades back to his sides. The chain settled between them but hovered slightly in the air, as if it wasn't completely bound by gravity.

" _Alright,"_ Ayame said as he was still thinking of what to do next. _"Bored now."_

"Huh—hey!" Rei glanced down, his eyes widening in surprise as he felt the weight lift out of his hands. Light surrounded Ayame, but she didn't revert back to her human form. Instead, she shifted and changed, becoming a much shorter blade, almost a dagger, with a ray skin hilt like a Japanese sword. Weight settled back into his right hand as the light cleared, revealing a straight metal blade with a black hilt and a square black guard with a star pattern engraved into it.

"What the heck?" Rei asked, staring down at it.

Ayame sounded like she was laughing. _"Ninjato Mode,"_ she said, sounding proud of herself. _"I'm a descendant of the Nakatsukasa Clan._ The _descendant, in fact. That means I get all the weapon forms of the previous generations, and something all of my own."_

"Whoa," said Rei. He took a few practice swings with the ninja sword, staring at it. The reach was much shorter than he had with the kusarigama, and the blade itself was much lighter, but it was still Ayame. He could feel her soul wavelength as he got a bit bolder, moving the short blade in front of him in several rapid cuts and thrusts. "What else can you do?" he asked as he came to a stop.

" _Oh, everything my mom can do, pretty much. Kusarigama, ninja sword, smoke bomb, shuriken, katana, shadow dummy. My katana form's not as cool as Mom's. She has the Enchanted Sword. I'm just a regular old blade. But I bet we could_ make _it cool."_

"And that thing you said that was just yours?" Rei asked. "The form that was all your own?"

" _The Cloak of Shadows,"_ Ayame said. _"I'm still working on that one. We can give it a try if you want."_

"Sure," said Rei. "Go for it."

The ninja sword in his hand began to shimmer again, the weapon coming apart. He felt the weight lift before settling back on his shoulders, as light as air. As the weight faded away again, he looked down, realizing that he was wearing a ragged black mantle, one that covered his torso and rose up to cover the lower half of his face. Shadows clung to the air around it like smoke, trailing away from its ragged ends. The mantle hovered just an inch over his skin, not quite touching him. It was clasped at his left shoulder with a gold star. He moved his hand and the fabric moved with him, shadows floating in the air around him like tendrils.

" _Grab them,"_ Ayame said, her voice strangely subdued, as though she were concentrating very hard. He reached back with both hands and closed them around the shadows, feeling them gain form and substance at his touch. They formed into two black kunai, shadows trailing from their hilts to connect back to the cloak.

Then everything shifted and Ayame was a kusarigama again, the scythes in his hands.

" _Sorry,"_ she said, sounding as though she was breathing hard. _"That one's…tricky. Give me a minute."_

"It's fine," said Rei. He stared down at the weapon in his hands. "That's…pretty amazing, Ayame."

" _Of course it's amazing,"_ said Ayame. _"It's me, isn't it? Don't worry, Rei. I'm going to make you a top-notch meister in no time."_

Rei chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm the meister," he said. "I'm supposed to be saying that to you."

" _Not this time, buddy,"_ said Ayame, cheerfully. Her weight lifted from his hands entirely, the light moving to the space in front of him as she took on human form again. She was smiling, her hand extended to him. "So what do you say? Partners?"

"Yeah," said Rei, smiling back. It was a reaffirmation of yesterday's promise. He reached out, clasping her hand. "Partners."


	3. First Day Blues

**CHAPTER TWO**

**First Day Blues**

* * *

" _Reiiiiiiiii!"_

Rei tensed as he heard the shout, stepping to the side to dodge his grandfather as the older man came running down the hall, arms outstretched for a hug. Spirit Albarn swept past him, continuing to run for a few steps before skidding to a stop and whirling to face Rei.

"Look at you!" Spirit said. "You're starting at the DWMA now! You've gotten so big! You look just like your Mama did when she was your age. I can't believe you didn't use the backpack I gave you. I'm so proud—"

Tears were streaming down his face. Rei shifted uncomfortably, tugging at his backpack and looking over his shoulder to see if anyone was watching. A couple of people had stopped to stare, but most walked past them, focused on finding their classes.

"Your grandfather?" Ayame asked from beside him.

"Unfortunately," said Rei.

Spirit stopped mid-sentence at Ayame's voice, blinking as if he had only just realized she was there. He blinked but didn't straighten up, looking from Ayame to Rei.

"Your partner?" he asked Rei.

"Yep," said Rei. "Ayame."

Spirit looked Ayame over again. His partner wore a form-fitting black shirt, sleeveless to display the mark on her right shoulder, and denim shorts. She wore white boots that rose up to just below her knee, socks the same shade of blue as her hair visible just over the tops of those. She wore similar blue arm bands on each arm, just above her elbow. Strips of cloth wound around her middle, forming an X just below her (admittedly ample) chest. She still wore her hair in the same style as she had when they first met, a portion of it pulled up into a small side ponytail with a hair tie in the shape of a star.

Spirit turned to Rei and nodded solemnly, giving him two thumbs up. Rei scowled, feeling a wave of revulsion run through him.

"Don't be a creep!" he said, punching Spirit in the face. "Come on, Ayame." He stalked forward, grabbing Ayame's wrist and pulling her in the direction of their classroom.

Spirit leaned against the wall where he had landed, one hand on the side of his face where Rei had struck him.

"He hits as hard as my Maka too," Spirit mumbled into the wall, rubbing the side of his face with pride.

Rei was still fuming by the time they got to class, finding their seats in the middle of the classroom. He sat next to Vayne, who had finally changed out of his Shibuko uniform. The other boy wore jeans and a long-sleeved white shirt with the words E.A.T. written across it in orange, an open jacket with short sleeves and Shinigami's skull symbol on its left side. He had also cut his hair, Rei noticed. His hair was much shorter on the left side of his head, just above his earring, than it was on the right.

"Hey, you made it," Vayne said as he sat down, Ayame taking her seat next to him. "Thought you were gonna be late."

"We had an incident in the hallway," said Rei, setting his backpack down with an angry thump. There was another boy sitting on Vayne's other side, a tall blond dressed in a button-down white shirt, slacks, and an open vest. He wore glasses. Rei recognized him from the first day of class. "Your meister?" Rei asked.

"Yeah, Clark," said Vayne, gesturing at him. "Clark, Rei. Rei, Clark."

"Nice to meet you," said Clark, reaching across from Vayne and holding his hand out. He was smiling.

"Yeah, you too," said Rei, taking his hand.

"You done?" Ayame asked from Rei's other side. "Your mom's giving you the evil eye."

Rei looked up. Maka was standing at the front of the classroom, below them. She was staring in their direction, her arms folded and eyes narrowed in an expression she recognized. Rei blinked, looking from her to the class around them. What was she doing here? This was supposed to be homeroom. Unless…

His eyes widened, and he dug in his bag for his class schedule. It had been given to him in the packet he'd received yesterday when he and Ayame went to pick up their keys, but he hadn't paid any attention to it. Now, he yanked it out of his bag and scanned it, feeling the color drain from his face.

_Class Moonless Night – E.A.T 1_ _st_ _Year,_ said the heading. And then below that:

_Homeroom – Maka Evans_

He looked from the schedule to his mom to the schedule again. E.A.T classes at the DWMA usually had the same homeroom advisor for all four years of instruction unless something drastic happened, like Sid's death during his parents' time in Class Crescent Moon.

They wouldn't do this to him, would they?

The class quieted down as they noticed her standing there, the last few echoes of conversation fading away. Maka smiled and unfolded her arms, apparently satisfied as she flipped her gradebook open.

"Alright," she said. "Welcome to the DWMA. My name is Maka Evans. I'll be your homeroom teacher for a while and also your Soul Studies teacher. It's nice to meet you. I hope we can work well together." She smiled broadly, her eyes moving over the room before landing on Rei.

Rei shrank down further in his seat, using the class schedule to hide his face. _Please don't say you're my Mom,_ he thought silently. _Please don't say you're my Mom._

"Hey, isn't that your mom?" Clark asked from next to Vayne. His voice was hushed, but it had managed to draw some attention, the people immediately around them turning towards Rei. He could feel the weight of their stares on him as he sank deeper into his seat, trying to shrink away.

"Yeah," he said in response.

"I was thinking we could start today off with introductions, to help me learn your names and a little about you," Maka continued. "Let's start over here." She pointed at one of the boys sitting in the front row, who immediately sat up straighter.

Rei listened as he gave his name, only half-paying attention. His eyes were moving down the schedule, taking it in for the first time. He had his mom for homeroom _and_ Soul Studies immediately after, which meant their class would be spending a lot of time with her. So much for not standing out. He groaned inwardly, trying not to look too despondent as all around him, people started introducing themselves, giving their names and random facts that he wasn't really paying attention to.

It was only when Clark spoke up that he realized it was almost his turn.

"My name is Clark Greysteil," Clark said from beside Vayne. "I'm a meister—the first meister in my family. I'm pretty normal actually."

_Yeah, lucky you,_ Rei thought.

"Vayne Damocles," said Vayne, grinning. "Weapon. I'm not."

That got some chuckles from the class. Rei took a deep breath, realizing that everyone was now looking at him.

"I'm Rei," he said. "Meister. Uh…I play music sometimes."

The crowd's attention passed from him and he exhaled, already feeling his stomach churning out of embarrassment for what he'd said. Why couldn't he just introduce himself normally, like Clark? Now they would be expecting him to play music, and he really wasn't that good at it, not like his dad and especially not like his uncle. Oh Death, they'd think he was some kind of poser…

He sank further into his seat, so miserable that he didn't notice Ayame was standing up until she started speaking.

"I'm Ayame Star!" she said loudly, drawing everyone's attention. "I'm the best weapon ever, and I'm gonna be the queen of the school!"

She jabbed her thumb at her chest as she struck a pose, grinning in determination. Rei stared at her. So did everyone else.

Silence followed, stretching on until it was uncomfortable. Ayame held her pose for a few moments before it started to falter, her grin breaking. She lowered her hand back to her side, her expression growing subdued as she settled back into her seat. A flush of embarrassment crept up her neck towards her face and she stubbornly reached for her textbook, opening it and using it to hide as the introductions went on.

Rei winced in sympathy. He reached out, thinking about patting her on the arm, but thought better of it, letting his hand drop back to the desk.

The introductions went on.

* * *

Ayame bounced back quickly from that morning's embarrassment, and by the time they filed into the dojo after lunch for Mifune's combat arts class, she seemed to have gotten over it entirely. Rei found himself envying her for it as he stood with her on the wooden floor of the dojo, the both of them dressed in the DWMA's gym uniform. They were both barefoot, and she was stretching and warming up, rocking back and forth on her heels as the rest of the class filed in around them. A few people whispered when they saw her and Rei, and not all of their whispers were directed at Ayame. Rei took a step back, wishing that he could disappear into the wall as some of them turned towards him.

"Yo," said Vayne from somewhere to their right, walking over to them.

Ayame seemed to be in a good enough mood to lower her arms out of her stretch, grinning at Vayne. "Hey!" she said, raising her hand and waving.

Clark came up behind him, looking uncomfortable in his gym clothes. He adjusted his glasses. "I know we have to learn to fight eventually, but so early?"

"That's the E.A.T. class for you," said Vayne, grinning. He nudged Clark lightly in the arm. "You _need_ combat arts to keep up with me."

"Yeah, what are you talking about?" Ayame asked, grinning at Clark. "Combat Arts sounds great! I've been looking forward to this _all day_!"

Clark gave her a warm smile in response. "I'm afraid we can't all be as brave as you, Ayame."

"Yeah, I know," said Ayame, casually. "But if you do your best, I'm _sure_ you'll get close."

Clark opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, the dojo's double doors slid open, Mifune walking through. The crowd of students parted for him, conversations dying down as he stopped in the middle of the room. He was dressed almost casually in a long-sleeved white shirt and pants, the word 'OSENSEI' printed on his shirt's upper right side. He had two sword-cases strapped to bandoliers that criss-crossed his body, both filled with wooden swords. Without saying a word, he gripped the strap of one of them and pulled, launching the wooden swords into the air. They landed scattered around the room, each one within reach of a student. Despite the fact that the blades were wooden, with no point to speak of, some force held them upright, hilts to the ceiling.

"Pick up a sword and form groups of six," he said. "Three meister and weapon pairs."

Rei frowned, picking up the sword nearest him. Next to him, Vayne looked confused, picking up his own sword and staring at it with a puzzled expression. Ayame hefted her sword eagerly, a grin on her face as she rested the flat of the wooden blade on her shoulder.

"Well, we're two pairs," Vayne said, looking around. His eyes landed on a pair of girls standing in front of them, looking down at their own swords with some confusion. "Hey, Rhythm and Rhyme!" he called. "Team up with us?"

"Sure," said Rhythm, turning to him. She smiled, about to step forward with Rhyme when Clark suddenly walked forward, a gleam in his eyes that reflected on his glasses.

"It would be an honor to work with you two lovely ladies," he said, sweeping his hand out in an expansive gesture as he dipped his head in a bow. "And might I say you're both looking quite beautiful today? Perhaps after class, we could—."

"Ew, gross," Rhythm said, her face changing into a scowl.

"Creep!" Rhyme said, shrinking back.

Clark looked crestfallen. "Wait—," he said, extending a hand out towards them. "Ladies?"

Rei, Vayne, and Ayame stared.

"Well, there he goes," said Vayne after a moment, arms folded.

"Shot down on the first day of class," said Ayame, wincing in sympathy. "Ouch."

"So much for being 'pretty normal'," said Rei.

"We'll join your team," said a feminine voice from beside them.

Rei looked up at the same time as Clark did, turning in that direction. The girl that stood in front of them was tall, her black hair falling down past her shoulders and her dark eyes solemn. Her gym clothes looked strange on her, almost too informal. She held her sword loosely in one hand, as if she wasn't sure what to do with it. Rei stared at her, trying to put a name to the face.

Morgan, he remembered from the introductions earlier. Morgan Fay.

Her partner, Cassie, stood a little bit away from her, her back to them. She was a shorter girl, about Ayame's height, slender and a little waifish, with short, light blond hair. She'd dyed some of the strands of hair on her right side in different colors, pale pink, light blue, and light green.

Clark looked at Morgan, appearing interested, but that changed completely when he saw Cassie. She had her face half turned towards them, her eyes staring off into the distance, and Rei caught sight of delicate features and bright, cornflower-blue eyes.

Clark's jaw dropped. Before Rei or Vayne could stop him, he was already moving, past Rei and Ayame, past Vayne, and past Morgan, until he was standing in front of her.

"My lady," he said, loud enough to draw the attention of the rest of the class. "You are more radiant than a thousand suns. My heart _longs_ to be graced with the pleasure of your company."

Rei paled and recoiled, half-afraid the secondhand embarrassment would kill him.

Across from Clark, Cassie blinked in confusion, turning towards him. She reached up, pulling one of the pale pink headphones that rested on top of her head away from her ear and pointing at herself.

"Sorry?" she said. "Did you say something?"

Clark turned white, looking as though he was about to shatter into a million pieces. Mifune's response was simply to glance in their direction.

"Cassandra, headphones," he said.

"Right. Sorry, teach." Cassie smiled, pulling off her headphones and letting them hang around her neck.

A few moments later, they were all assembled into teams. Mifune waited until they had formed something that looked almost like a line, then turned to address the class.

"You won't form your official teams until sometime next year, but the DWMA often works in groups of three meister and weapon pairs, so that's how we will begin practice today. The first thing you'll notice is that each of you, weapon and meister, has a sword, regardless of what type of weapon you may actually wield or be. This is because the path of the warrior does not simply require combat and weapon proficiency. It requires discipline and integrity, honor and courage, all of which the sword can teach you. When you learn _that_ , we can speak of other arts. We'll start with stances today."

All through Mifune's speech, Ayame had looked impatient, but like she was holding it in, trying to wait patiently. When he said 'stances', though, her face fell.

"Stances?" she repeated.

Mifune's eyes flicked towards her. "Is there a problem, Miss…?"

"Star," said Ayame. "Ayame Star. And look, Mifune-sensei, I get that stances are important and all, but I already know how to use a sword. And a lot of other weapons actually. So can't I just…skip ahead?"

"Ayame." Mifune frowned, testing the name. He turned to face her. "Your father is Black Star?" he asked.

"Yes," said Ayame, looking proud and relieved that he had guessed that. She drew herself up straighter.

"And your mother is Tsubaki, of the Nakatsukasa Clan?"

"Yeah, exactly," said Ayame, smiling.

"I see." Mifune looked away. "No. You can't skip ahead. Get in line."

Ayame's smile faded. She blinked, staring at Mifune in shock.

"B-But—," she began.

"I said no," said Mifune, his tone final.

"But I can fight!" Ayame said, sounding angry. "I don't need to learn how to do _stances_ again."

Mifune frowned, turning towards Ayame again. His eyes were narrowed. "If you don't see the value of returning to basics, then you clearly haven't learned the sword. In line, Ayame."

Ayame bristled, her hands clenching into fists. The motion made the sword in her right hand straighten, the tip pointing towards Mifune. Rei looked from her to Mifune, his mouth going dry.

"Ayame," he said, taking a step forward and putting out his hand as if to stop her. "Maybe you should…"

"No!" said Ayame, swatting his hand away. "I _can_ fight! I've learned to _fight_!"

Mifune squared himself to her, reaching out and taking one of the nearest wooden swords in his right hand. Rei didn't miss the fact that one of his sword cases were still full.

" _Ayame,"_ he said, more urgently. The students around him unconsciously stepped back, clearing the space between Ayame and Mifune.

"Come then," Mifune said.

Ayame tightened her grip on the sword, the tip shaking with the force of her hold. Then, abruptly, the shaking stopped and she gripped the sword with both hands, charging forward with a yell.

She opened with a rising cut, swinging the sword diagonally upwards. Mifune took a step back, brushing the blow aside with the flat of his own blade. Ayame shifted her grip, turning the sword around and bringing it down in a downward cut, one that Mifune blocked just as effortlessly, bringing his sword up and sweeping his blade alongside hers just enough to knock it off-line. She let out a yell, shifting her weight and bringing her sword close to herself, before unfolding into a horizontal cut. Mifune blocked it with his own sword held vertically off the ground, then shifted suddenly, his sword moving lightning quick along hers as he flicked his wrist.

Her sword went flying out of her hands, clattering against the floor. Before Ayame could respond, he was already turning, striking her square in the middle with a solid kick. Ayame's eyes widened, the blow knocking the wind out of her. She went flying, striking the wooden floor in the center of the dojo and skidding backwards as she landed on the ground.

She didn't get up. Rei stared at her, concerned, as Ayame pulled one arm tight around her middle, staring up at the ceiling.

Mifune raised his sword and brought it down again, a rapid motion that was almost like a flourish. He turned to the class.

"Break off into groups and line up," he said, as if nothing had happened. He turned away.

Ayame's hand moved, bracing itself on the floor beside her. She started to stand. Mifune stopped, glancing back at her. He held his sword loosely in hand, but didn't point it back at her.

"Don't make this worse for yourself, Ayame," he said.

Ayame ignored him, rising fully to her feet. She spread her legs to stabilize herself, fists clenched at her side as she raised her head and looked at Mifune.

Then she moved, almost faster than Rei could follow. She exploded across the floor, shooting straight for Mifune like an arrow. Before she reached him, she leaped, aiming a kick straight at Mifune's head.

Mifune raised his sword, blocking her, but Ayame simply kicked off the flat of his blade, landing on the ground and sweeping her leg out in an arc at Mifune's ankles. He stepped lightly over her sweep, bringing his sword down on her head. Ayame swept her right arm out to catch it, the arm shifting into a black blade. The blade sliced straight through Mifune's wooden sword as Ayame straightened up, unfolding and aiming her human elbow at his middle. Mifune brought the hilt of his broken sword down over her elbow, knocking her strike out of the way as he jumped back.

Ayame jumped back as well, but only to gain momentum as she pushed herself off the ground and launched herself forward, flying at Mifune. She let loose a flurry of punches and kicks as she reached him, aiming at his knees, belly, wrists, and head. Mifune moved back with the strikes but blocked each one, shifting the broken half of his sword to block the blows.

All around Rei, the members of their class stared, gasping as blows connected and whispering to themselves. A few of them even started hesitantly cheering Ayame on. Rei stared, unable to help the sick feeling in his stomach. Ayame was doing great, fantastic. He had had no idea that she could move like that. But he couldn't allow himself to relax. Something was _wrong._

It was Mifune, Rei realized. He wasn't attacking, only deflecting her blows, and while he was being driven back, none of her punches or kicks had actually connected with him.

Ayame reached out suddenly with her right hand, grabbing for Mifune's hair. Mifune jerked his head back before her fingers could reach him, but Ayame's movement had been a feint. She had been expecting that. As she moved, her arm shifted, becoming a chain. It wrapped around Mifune's sword arm, yanking him to the ground. Mifune flipped over rather than falling completely, wrapping his hand tightly around the chain that bound him for balance as he landed on the ground. Ayame, realizing that she'd accidentally bound him to her, transformed the arm back, her hand becoming human as she rushed at him again. She aimed a high kick at his head, one that he blocked before she sank down onto the ground, reversing direction and aiming a kick at his waist.

The kick connected, driving Mifune back. He slid across the ground from the force of the blow, but remained standing as Ayame straightened up, her eyes narrowed as she faced him. Mifune frowned at her, glancing down at his side as if he hadn't been expecting that, before meeting her eyes.

And then he moved.

Rei barely saw his movements as he charged forward, drawing a wooden sword from the case at his side. Ayame ducked beneath his first blow, her eyes wide, and managed to block his second by changing her arm into a shuriken at the last moment, but the third struck her across the face, and it was all over from there.

A flurry of blows, moving so quickly that Rei couldn't tell where one ended and another began. Mifune ended by bringing his sword up in a strong uppercut, the blow strong enough to lift Ayame off her feet and send her crashing to the ground. She landed face down, shaking and trembling as she struggled to get up.

Mifune swept his sword out in front of him again, returning it to its case. He stared at her, eyes narrowed, as if daring her to try something again. The class had gone completely, deathly silent as Ayame kept her eyes on Mifune, anger in them.

Mifune looked from Ayame to Rei, standing at the front of the crowd and watching her. He turned back to Ayame.

"Have some consideration for your meister," he said. "This fight is over."

Ayame inhaled, a shaky breath, and tried to push herself up. Her arms didn't hold her, and she slumped forward again.

"Ayame!" Rei said, moving forward and reaching for her arm. She tensed, like she was going to push him away, but didn't, allowing him to help her to her feet. She didn't resist when he slung her arm over his shoulders, his other arm going around her waist.

"Rei, is it?" asked Mifune, glancing at him. "Take your partner to the dispensary. She'll be bruised, but nothing should be broken. The rest of you, break into groups. We'll be working on stances today."

Ayame didn't say a word as Rei turned her towards the door, breathing heavily against his shoulder as they left the room.

* * *

The walk to the dispensary seemed unbearably long with Ayame leaning against him, walking with small shuffling steps. Her breathing was coming in short pants, her face turned away from him completely.

She didn't speak until they rounded the corner, turning away from the dojo.

"That wasn't…exactly very queenly, was it?" she said, not looking at him.

"You picked a fight with a teacher," Rei said. "Not sure what you expected there."

"Yeah…" Ayame said, her voice soft. She lowered her eyes to the ground. "I'm not sure what I expected either." That worried him. He hadn't known her for very long, but he already knew that it was unlike Ayame to admit to weakness.

"For what it was worth," Rei said. "You were pretty cool for a moment there."

She shook her head, not looking up at him. A smile appeared on her face anyway. "Thanks for trying to cheer me up, but I know how I looked."

"I'm not just—," Rei began.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" asked a voice, making them both stop and look up.

Two boys were standing in the hallway, watching Rei. He tensed, tightening his grip on Ayame as he watched them. They were older than he was, probably in their second or third year of school. He recognized them. He'd seen them around before, the few times he'd been in the DWMA in the past year with one or the other of his parents.

Grayson and Richard. Two thorns in his side. He'd forgotten he'd be sharing a school with them.

"It's the Evans kid," Grayson said, grinning. He was a tall, well-muscled teenager, dark-haired, gray eyed, and mean. His partner, Richard, leaned against the wall, his arms folded and a grin on his face. Richard's hair was a deep red, cut short around his face.

"What happened?" Richard asked. "Mommy let you out of class?"

"Get out of the way, Richard, Grayson," Rei said, his voice soft. He lowered his eyes to the ground as Grayson stepped forward, looming over him. The bigger boy was grinning.

"Ooh, 'get out of the way'," he said. "What, are you gonna do something about it?"

"Maybe he'll run home and call his mama," said Richard, grinning. He faked a high-pitched voice. "Mommy, the kids at school are so _mean_."

"I mean it, Grayson," Rei said, his voice shaking. "Get out of the way."

"What're you gonna do, fight with that thing?" asked Grayson, gesturing at Ayame. He seemed amused at the notion. "Your partner doesn't look like she can _stand_."

Ayame raised her head from where she leaned against him. Her eyes narrowed into a glare, fixing on Grayson. "Heh," she said. "I'm not so beat-up that I can't take a little punk like you."

Grayson hesitated, something in Ayame's eyes giving him pause. He inched back a bit, then recovered, still blocking Rei's way.

"Come on, Rei," Ayame said. "We can take 'em."

"Yeah, Rei," said Richard, his tone mocking. "You can take us."

"Rei—," Ayame said.

"No," said Rei, keeping his eyes on the ground.

"But—," Ayame began.

"Ayame, I said _no_."

Ayame sucked in a breath through her teeth. Across from him, Grayson let out a loud belly laugh, stepping out of the way.

"That's right," he said. "You're too chicken to do anything, aren't you, Evans? Afraid mommy will get mad?"

Rei ignored them, continuing to shuffle forward, Ayame leaning against him.

Their jeers followed him down the hallway as he continued to walk.

* * *

It was quiet at their apartment that night. Rei had settled on the couch with his guitar, but he didn't seem to be playing it, instead running his fingers over the strings and seeming to tune it over and over again. Ayame watched him from the doorway that led into the kitchen, letting out a hiss of pain as she moved the cold pack in her hand over her bruises. He had hardly said a word since getting home, hadn't really looked at her.

"Rei…?" she asked, her voice tentative.

Rei didn't turn towards her, continuing to pretend to tune his guitar. She knew he had heard though, had seen the way he tensed when she spoke.

She stepped forward, walking into the living room.

"Rei?" she said again.

"Yeah?" Rei asked, not looking back at her.

"I…" She hesitated, stopping herself. She couldn't find the words for what she wanted to say.

Her mother would have, she realized. Her mother would have known exactly what to say to make this all better.

"…Why didn't you fight back?" she asked instead, lowering her eyes to the ground. "People like that…they always back off if you fight back."

"You were injured," Rei said, but he said it in a way that told her it wasn't the real reason.

"I could have fought," Ayame said. "I wanted to—I wanted to help you, Rei."

Rei didn't respond, keeping his eyes on the far wall. Ayame waited for a few moments before giving up, letting out a breath and making her way up the stairs. She was almost to her room when she heard the door open, heard Vayne letting himself in.

She heard voices from downstairs when she reached her door. Vayne's voice, concerned, and Rei's, talking in a low tone.

He would talk to Vayne, Ayame realized. But he wouldn't talk to her.

She let out a loud breath, closing the door to her room behind her.

Ayame collapsed to the ground, landing on the futon beneath her. She lay there on her side for a moment before reaching out and grabbing a yellow star-shaped pillow that had been lying near the mattress, pulling it close to her chest and curling up around it.

She closed her eyes.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Ayame vs. Mifune fight, at least the part where Ayame appeared to be doing well, was written using Twister (Kingdom Mix) from the Kingdom Hearts Dream Drop Distance OST. In an attempt to keep a Soul Eater feel in this fic, Rei and Ayame both have themes that sound like the SE Character Themes (So Scandalous…etc.). Twister from The World Ends With You/KH: Dream Drop Distance and all of its variants is Ayame's, and I'll probably make music notes like this for those who want to use them to picture the fights.


	4. Stein's First Lesson; Understand Each Other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, all! My sister did some really nice sketches of the characters (she's had them done for a while, hence the hasty description-editing in the previous chapter), and they can be found at: bi t.l y (slash) 1kwdKRB (remove spaces)
> 
> I'm super happy with how these turned out, so go and have a look. Cover art to follow once she finishes coloring it! Credit, of course, goes to my little sis, LianneSilver927.
> 
> This chapter, particularly the Ayame/Rei scene, was way harder to write than I thought it would be. Sorry if it turned out badly as a result. Enjoy!

**CHAPTER THREE**

**Stein's First Lesson; Understand Each Other**

* * *

"Come on, man!" Vayne said, tapping furiously at his laptop's keyboard. "Get it!"

"I'm _trying_!" said Rei, drawing his controller close to himself and pressing several buttons in succession. On the screen, his character, a paladin, blocked a burst of flame from the dragon they were fighting. "In case you've forgotten, I'm supposed to be the _tank_!"

He held down the analog stick with his thumb, his character moving around to flank the monster as Vayne's samurai moved to the dragon's other side, launching into an impressive combo. Vayne leaned in close to his laptop screen, moving the mouse with one hand as he tapped out another sequence. At the bottom of the screen, the dragon's health bar dropped even lower.

"Just a little more," Vayne muttered, leaning in and concentrating. His samurai jumped back and charged in with an attack that looked like several rays of light. Rei grit his teeth as the dragon reared up and attacked his paladin, the controller in his hands vibrating as his health bar dropped drastically. It recovered slightly as he cast a healing spell, but not as much as he needed.

The dragon's health dropped again as Vayne executed another combo, going into the red.

"Almost there," Rei said, using a spell to raise his and Vayne's defenses and then casting another healing spell.

"You don't have to tell me," said Vayne, not looking up from his laptop. "Rare armor, here we come!"

On Rei's screen, light began shining around Vayne's samurai, a sign that he was preparing to cast the finishing move. Rei grit his teeth and pulled his controller back to himself, ready to offer support. The light grew brighter, obscuring Vayne's character from view.

The dragon's HP suddenly dropped to nothing, the monster exploding into a million shards of light. The music that had been swelling in the dungeon since their characters had entered it came to a sudden stop, a blue-haired cat girl leaping into the space where the dragon had been before bounding out of sight.

The light around Vayne's samurai faded.

"Wait, what?!" Vayne asked, sitting up.

Rei stared. Above his character's head, a message had appeared on the screen:

**Rock*Star has defeated Ancalogon!**

Rei's jaw dropped. As the message sank in, his eyes narrowed, his hands clenching into fists around the controller. He threw it on the couch, standing up.

"Rei?" Vayne asked.

"Ayame!" In a flash, Rei was pounding his way up the stairs, heading for Ayame's room. "Ayame, what the heck?!"

"What?!" asked Ayame, pulling the door to her room open and leaning out the doorway. "What do you want?"

"What the hell was _that_ for?!" Rei asked.

"What was _what_ for?!" asked Ayame, scowling at him.

"Ancalogon!" said Rei. "Vayne and I spent _days_ planning for that! It was a rare event! Why did you go ruin it?"

"What?" asked Ayame. "You're talking about your stupid game? I don't even _play_ that, Rei!"

"Oh yeah?" shouted Rei. "Who else goes by the character name 'Rock*Star', then?"

"I don't know! My brother?! I'm not the only one who's allowed to use the word 'Star' in a freaking character name!"

"Your brother?" Rei asked. "Let me get this straight. Your five-year-old brother is playing an online game as a ninja cat-girl on an American server at 2 o'clock in the goddamn morning, Egypt time?!"

"He's a weird kid! How am I supposed to know?!"

"A-ya-me—," Rei began, drawing the syllables out.

"Um, Rei?" asked Vayne from downstairs. "I'm…just gonna go, okay?"

Rei ignored him, scowling at Ayame. She scowled back, her eyes narrowed into a glare. They held each other's gaze for a moment, neither of them backing down, before Ayame let out a huff, taking a step back and looking away.

"Whatever!" she said. "Go back to playing your stupid game with your stupid friends! See if I care!"

She slammed the door, the sound loud enough to send the apartment rattling. Rei stared at her door, his hands clenched into fists at his side.

"…Rei?" Vayne asked hesitantly from downstairs.

"Fine!" Rei yelled. "Whatever, Ayame! Just stay in there! See if I care!"

He turned, running down the stairs to join Vayne.

* * *

Ayame didn't come out of her room that night. The next day, they spent breakfast glaring daggers at each other, the mood not lightening up on the walk to school. Rei put Clark and Vayne between himself and Ayame as they reached Class Moonless Night, something Ayame pointedly ignored, slamming her books and pencil case onto the desk with enough force to make the people in the row in front of her duck for cover. Vayne stared between the two of them, looking concerned as Rei turned away and Clark laughed nervously, trying to draw them both into conversation.

It didn't work. They went their separate ways for lunch and were still fuming at each other when Professor Stein called them to one of the smaller training rooms in the school for their first resonance lesson.

Rei sat cross-legged on the floor where Professor Stein had left them, his arms folded as beside him, Ayame refused to look at him. He didn't know what was wrong with her. She'd been testy for the past few days, ever since the incident with Grayson and Richard in the hallway. At first she'd just been distant, a little sad, but as the days wore on, she'd started snapping at him and getting moodier, more likely to pull off stuff like the crap she had pulled with Ancalogon. He didn't understand it, and honestly, he was out of patience.

Well, fine! If Ayame was going to be like that, he didn't have to be nice to her either.

Stein shut the door of his office, then came around to face them, leaning against his desk with his hands in the pockets of his lab coat. He was a tall and imposing man, older now than in the pictures Rei had seen of him with his parents' E.A.T. Class, but still the same odd blend of scholarliness and barely-restrained madness that he had been twenty years ago. The light from the windows reflected against his glasses as he studied them, his eyes lingering a little longer on Rei than he would have liked. Rei wondered what he saw there, if he was looking for some evidence of his parents in him.

He scowled, not feeling in a good enough mood to just let that slide. He was getting really tired of people expecting him to become his parents.

Stein quirked an eyebrow from behind his glasses at his expression, but Rei felt the weight of his gaze lift. He drew in a breath before he started to speak. "The art of resonance is one of the most important things we can learn at the DWMA," he said. "It's a very delicate technique—the harmonizing of two, sometimes very different souls. There are a lot of factors that can affect your ability to resonate with your partner—things you might be keeping from each other, for instance, or weaknesses in the bond between you. The smallest things can upset an entire partnership. So before we start, is there anything either of you would like to say to the other?"

"Nope," said Ayame, turning away. "I've got nothing to say to _him_."

Rei bristled at that, insulted despite his promise to himself to not care about her anymore. He turned away as well, looking in the opposite direction. "Same here," he said. "Got nothing."

"Hmm." Stein watched them, and Rei heard a clicking sound as he reached up, adjusting the screw on the side of his head. His expression was unreadable. "Very well, then. I need you both to face each other."

Rei hesitated, but reluctantly scooted himself around so that he was facing Ayame. She did the same, turning to face him. Neither of them looked the other in the eye.

"Hold hands," Stein said. "Weapon in meister's."

Ayame shoved her hands into his, still not looking at him. Rei closed his hands around hers gently, despite the fact that he didn't want to be touching her at all. The pads of her fingers were rough, calloused from her constant training.

"Close your eyes," Stein said. "Try to relax. Breathe."

Rei did, trying to relax, to let the tension leave him as he faced her. He felt it leave his shoulders and back as he took several slow breaths, and from in front of him, he could hear Ayame doing the same. Her hands relaxed in his, her breathing coming slow and steady. It was almost in time with his own. Like this, quietly breathing, he almost forgot he was mad at her.

Almost.

"Try to sense the other person's soul," Stein said. "Reach for it with yours."

He breathed deeply, in and out, and as he breathed, he started to get a sense of Ayame. Her soul was right in front of him, a tightly-contained nexus of light and power. He felt it pulse with her own breath, her own heartbeat, felt those pulses wash over him, brushing against his own soul.

He fixed that source of power in his mind as he breathed, reaching out for her. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to reach for her at that moment, and he felt rather than saw her own soul do the same, a tendril lifting from the surface of her soul and reaching out towards his. He could hear his own heartbeat, his own breathing in time with hers as he reached out to meet her, a tendril rising up from his soul to touch against hers.

A jolt of pain ran through him suddenly, sparks flying as their souls came together with a discordant crash.

The jolt was enough to cause them both to fly apart from each other, the illusion breaking as they landed on the floor of Stein's office. A wind had picked up around them, picking up and scattering the papers on Stein's desk before disappearing entirely. His hands hurt. He blinked down at them, then looked over at Ayame as she picked herself up off the ground, gritting her teeth in pain.

"What the hell?" she asked, muttering under her breath.

Stein didn't look surprised at all. He simply reached up, adjusting his glasses and stepping away from his desk. "I thought that would happen," he said, looking between the two of them. "Let this be your first lesson. If you come into this partnership angry, resentful, unwilling to bend, your souls will clash with each other. At the end of the day, resonance is compromise, and understanding." He looked between the two of them, his expression serious. "I don't know what's happened," he said. "I don't know what this is about. But I know your souls are working against each other right now. So this is your first assignment. Deal with it. Learn to _understand_ each other, not simply tolerate each other. You're excused from the remainder of your classes today. Use the time to fix your partnership, and don't come back to this room until your souls are in accord. Dismissed."

Rei picked himself up off the ground, not looking at Stein as he left the room. Ayame followed, her expression sullen. They picked their way across the DWMA's grounds, neither of them speaking until they reached the door. They walked through it, stepping out into the desert sunshine.

He thought neither of them would speak, that they would continue on like this and that their partnership was done for, but it was Ayame who spoke first.

"Sorry."

She spoke the word curtly, as if it pained her. Rei looked over his shoulder to see her walking with her eyes on the ground, gripping her left arm tightly with the fingers of her right hand. She looked close to tears, although he knew she wouldn't admit it.

He drew in a breath, his hands still tingling from their failed resonance.

"Sorry too," he said.

"You stopped talking to me," Ayame said, still not looking at him. "After what happened in the hallway. I got upset." She took a breath. "I shouldn't have done what I did with your game…or said what I said to you."

He looked away, gritting his teeth. The simple honesty in her words floored him, and made him hate himself all over again. There she was, taking the lead, being herself, charging boldly onward without fear.

He couldn't help but be jealous of her.

"I was afraid," he admitted, the words feeling like glass in his mouth. He couldn't look at her as he said them. The self-loathing was a real thing in his chest, in the pit of his belly. It coiled up inside of him and wrapped tendrils around his soul. "That's why I didn't fight back. I wanted to—I really, really did, but I lost my nerve." He laughed darkly at himself, the words spilling out of his mouth as soon as he started speaking, everything that had been plaguing him since starting at the DWMA coming out all at once.

"I was afraid to fight a pair of second-rate bullies, and there _you_ were, fresh from taking _Mifune-sensei_ on without flinching, ready to go again. I couldn't face you after that. How could I?"

 _Scaredy-cat,_ Ayame had called him when they met again, had called him many times as a child. It had never felt more apt than it did now.

He had always been a coward.

Rei swallowed hard, wishing he could take back everything he'd said, feeling miserable as he slipped his hands into his pockets and trudged back towards their apartment.

He was stopped by Ayame's hand on his wrist, turning him back around to face her.

She wasn't looking at him. She had stopped walking, forcing him to come to a stop as well, but she refused to meet his eyes. Instead, she looked down at the ground beside her, worrying at her lower lip with her teeth.

Rei stared at her, not really sure what to do. "Ayame…?" he asked.

She shook her head, still not looking at him. "…Did you really think it would matter to me?" she asked. "You were scared. So what? Lots of people get scared. And you were right about Mifune. That wasn't a fight I should have taken. So, you know, maybe I could have stood to be a little more afraid." She drew in a shaky breath, looking up at him for the first time. "You'll fight them when you're ready, Rei. Just tell me when. I won't force you into it. But don't…"

Ayame trailed off, dropping her gaze again.

"Don't what?" Rei prompted.

"Don't do this again," said Ayame, looking up. "I don't _care_ if you're afraid to fight. Just don't be afraid to talk to me. I've—I've never had a real friend before…"

Her grip tightened on his wrist, and she looked down again. Her hair fell over her face, hiding her eyes from view, and her hand was shaking. Her teeth were clenched tightly together, as if she was in pain.

"Ayame?" Rei asked.

She squeezed his wrist tightly, almost to the point of pain. "Be quiet for a minute!" she said. "I'm trying to talk." He waited, watching as she tried to collect herself, taking in slow breaths.

"We moved around so much," she said. "I never got the chance to really meet anyone, you know? I thought things would be different here, at the DWMA, but nobody wanted to be my partner. Then I ran into you. I thought we could be friends, but you'd rather hang out with Vayne than with me. I tried to join in, but you wouldn't let me. I got…frustrated, I guess." She shook her head, suddenly looking angry with herself. Her hand released his wrist as she brushed past him, walking forward. "Forget it," she said. "I was being dumb. I can give you and Vayne your loot back."

"Ayame." He reached out for her before he knew what he was doing, stopping her from walking with a hand on her arm. "Wait."

She stopped, her back to him. Rei swallowed, realizing that he didn't know what to say. The words wouldn't come, no matter how hard he wanted them to. His throat felt tight, and he wanted to tell her that it was nothing, that she could keep walking now. But he didn't want to do that. He knew that if he let this moment pass because he was afraid to speak, he would never be able to forgive himself.

So he took a deep breath, letting his hand fall back to his side.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I wasn't trying to exclude you. I'm not very good at making friends, I guess. But I still want to be friends with you."

She didn't move. A ripple of motion passed through her shoulders like an indrawn breath. A droplet of water struck the ground at her feet. She didn't turn to face him.

Instead, she tilted her head upwards, towards the sky. Wetness glistened on her cheeks. She wiped it away with the back of her hand and sniffled.

"There you go crying again, Rei," she said.

He smiled. "Yeah. Sorry for crying."

"It's fine," Ayame said, drawing in a ragged breath. "I guess…I'm just gonna have to learn to deal with you."

"Yeah," said Rei. "Guess so."

He placed a hand on her shoulder as she scrubbed at her eyes again, the two of them walking down the road. An idea struck him as they rounded a corner, heading downhill towards their apartment.

"Hey, Ayame?" he asked. "Do you mind coming with me for a minute? There's somewhere I want you to see."

* * *

They stopped to pick up a box of donuts before Rei led her back up the road, into a section of the city she wasn't quite familiar with yet. Ayame followed him, more curious than anything now. After the heaviness of the past few days and the conversation she and Rei had had just outside the school, she felt raw, a little emotionally drained, but relieved. It was much easier now, being with Rei and speaking to him without all that darkness between them.

Except he still wasn't telling her everything.

It wasn't that he was hiding stuff from her, at least not the same way that he had been earlier, but for some reason, he seemed reluctant to tell her where they were going. She'd asked him a few times and had gotten the same response back: "You'll see when we get there."

The city opened up around them, residential buildings and shops falling away as they walked up a paved cobblestone path, towards a building at the top of a hill. A wrought-iron gate barred their path, a pair of Shinigami-sama's skulls facing outwards from two symmetrical guard towers. Beyond it was a courtyard, leading to what looked like a large mansion.

Ayame slowed as they neared it, realizing where they were.

"Um…Rei?" she asked. "Isn't this Shinigami-sama's place?"

"Yeah," said Rei, not slowing down. "Don't worry. We're going around the back."

They skirted the outer fence of Gallows Manor, coming to a small gate that opened into the manor's backyard. The path leading up to it had been well-tended, as if people came through here all the time. The back of the manor was just as symmetrical as the front, but here and there Ayame caught sight of signs that people lived here—small footprints in the grass, or a child's discarded toy. The differences were subtle, but they were there, and it was in such contrast to the front of the house that Ayame stopped at the gate's threshold for a moment, just taking it in.

Rei stopped on the path, looking back at her.

"Ayame?" he asked.

"Sorry," said Ayame, hurrying to catch up. She closed the gate behind her, the latch catching, and followed Rei as they walked up the steps towards the back entrance of the building. As they neared, she started hearing sounds coming from inside, traces of conversation. There were people on the other side of the door. Three or four maybe, possibly more. Most of the voices had the high-pitched tones of children.

"What is this place?" she asked.

Instead of answering, Rei opened the door. Conversation stilled as he stepped inside, a group of kids looking up from a huddle on the floor. Coloring books, crayons, and stuffed animals were scattered around them. A blond woman was seated cross-legged on the floor with them, a yellow crayon in her hand poised over a half-finished giraffe drawing.

Ayame blinked, looking around. There were four children seated on the floor with the woman, three boys and a girl, all dressed in similar dark uniforms. The boys wore button-down shirts and jackets and shorts, the girl wore the same thing but with a skirt. The uniforms were perfectly symmetrical on both sides. The children there looked too young to be in school, but there were things around the room—a textbook here, a pair of headphones there—that told her there were older children in here occasionally. One of the youngest kids, a blond boy with big green eyes, let out a yelp of fear when he saw Rei and quickly buried himself in the blond woman's arms, but the other three jumped to their feet in delight.

"It's Rei!" they said, swarming him. "Rei's here!"

She was more confused than ever. And she had a feeling, a very strong one, that there was more going on here than met the eye. Her eyes passed over the youngest boy again, the one who was currently being encouraged to calm down and help draw the giraffe. He sniffed, raising his hands to wipe his eyes, and the woman quickly but firmly guided his hands away from his face.

His fingers had become blades.

"Rei?" Ayame asked, feeling cold. "What's going on?"

Rei looked back at her. The children had already liberated the box of donuts from him and were squealing in delight, running over to put it on a table.

"This is the DWO," Rei said. "The Death Weapon Orphanage."

"Orphanage?" Ayame asked, looking around. The kids had opened the box of donuts and were digging in, one of the boys trying to convince the youngest one to join them.

Rei walked over to her, his expression dark. He slipped his hands into his pockets, leaning against the wall. "Yeah," he said. "Shibuko, we call it. My parents helped Shinigami-sama set this up when I was little. We call it an orphanage, but most of these kids were abandoned."

"Abandoned?" Ayame asked, looking around. The kids, all save the youngest who was still crying, were happily breaking into the box of donuts now, smears of chocolate and jelly on their faces. Something in her chest tightened. _"Why?"_ she breathed.

"…They're weapons, Ayame," Rei said softly, with a glance at her.

Weapons. Like her.

Her hands tightened into fists, so tightly that she could feel them shaking. She remembered her childhood with her mother, remembered how happy she had been the first day she could transform, how proud she had been each time Tsubaki helped her learn a new form.

How proud her mother had been of her.

"Just for that?" Ayame asked. Anger rose up in her, making it hard to keep her voice down. "They abandoned them just because of _that?!"_

The kids looked up, glancing at her. A couple of them had fearful looks on their faces. Rei placed a hand on her arm, looking concerned.

"Do you wanna go outside?" he asked.

"No, I'm fine," said Ayame, shrugging out of his hold. "I just—I can't believe it. I can't believe people _do_ that."

Except she could. She'd seen it. How many times had people looked at her or her mother with distrust? How many times had she heard people talk about weapons as if they were nothing more than demons?

She could believe it, and she hated that, because it was wrong. It was so, awfully, terribly wrong.

It made her want to hit something.

Rei nodded solemnly, as if he knew what she was feeling. "Mom used to bring me here a lot," he said. "She'd volunteer here after class, and she'd bring me around to play with the other kids." He drew in a breath, looking away from her and watching the kids again. "I met Vayne here."

She stayed silent, realizing the implications of that. Her eyes passed over the room again, falling on the kids and the woman watching them, the woman that she now recognized as one of Shinigami-sama's guns. She took in the books that said older kids lived here, the TV set up in the exact middle of the room, the pens and paper scattered over the two tables on either side of it.

"Vayne was one of these kids," she said, when she could find her voice.

Rei nodded. "He was nine, when he came in. He wouldn't talk to anyone at first. He's…a lot better now."

"Did you bring me here to show me that?" Ayame asked.

Rei looked guilty. He glanced away, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Sort of," he admitted. "I'm not…good with words, I guess, when it comes to this sort of thing. I guess I just wanted you to know that you're not the only one who has trouble making friends."

Ayame looked around the room one last time, looked at Rei. She found herself smiling in spite of the tightness in her heart, imagining him playing here as a kid, imagining him slowly drawing Vayne out of his shell. He might not believe it, but it wasn't hard to see Rei having that effect on people. It seemed to be working alright on her.

"Well," she said, turning away from Rei. "I still think he's got terrible fashion sense."

"Huh?" Rei asked, looking up.

Ayame held up a hand to stop him, looking over her shoulder and giving him a smile. "He's also really nosy, and he walks around our apartment like he owns the place. He's a terrible gamer too—I mean, seriously, who uses Orichalcum armor on a _samurai_? And I don't like how he keeps showing me up in class. It's like he doesn't _know_ that I'm gonna be the queen of this school or something. But, if he's your friend—," Her smile widened. "—I guess he's just going to have to be my friend too."

Rei's eyes widened. "You mean it?" he asked.

"Yeah," said Ayame. "I mean it."

* * *

Stein stood on the DWMA's balcony, an unlit cigarette between his lips as he looked out over the school. It was lunchtime, and it was relatively cool for Death City at this time of year, several of the students deciding to enjoy the day by taking their lunch outside. A group of four in particular sat beneath one of the trees in the training forest to the side of the school, their lunches spread out in front of them. They were first years, still new to the DWMA, but by now he had had some time to work with each of the E.A.T. class pairs and recognized all of them.

They were laughing, joking around with each other as they ate. One of them, a brown-haired boy with an earring, was having some fun at the expense of a certain blond-haired, red-eyed meister, his partner laughing along from where she lay on the ground in the shade of the tree. The last one, a tall blond boy with glasses, smiled as he leaned against the tree trunk and took a drink of his soda.

Vayne Damocles. Rei Evans. Clark Greysteil. Ayame Star.

The world seemed to shift as he focused in on the group, his perception of them changing as he focused in on their souls. He saw Clark's soul first, a pale blue orb with a pair of rectangular formations in front of it that resembled his glasses. It pulsed with a gentle, calming wavelength, one that meshed nicely with his partner's. Vayne's soul was orange, with spikes on its right side that resembled his hair. It was energetic in counterpart to Clark's calm, but also fervent and passionate, with a zealousness that would have been difficult to handle otherwise.

And then there was the other two. Ayame's soul was a bold blue and blinding, buried deeply within her. It had a tendril on its left side, one that looked very much like her side-ponytail, one that seemed bound to her soul by the shape of a star. And Rei's, a blue so light that it was almost grey, difficult to see even with his perception. He thought it flickered as he watched it, a different shape lurking somewhere within it.

One soul fierce, passionate, exuberant, but also undeniably fragile, another uncertain, kind, hesitant, but also undeniably loyal. The two of them were a study in contradictions, a pair of immensely different, singularly unique souls that complemented each other so well that it was almost as if they had been born to it.

They were in sync now, their wavelengths quietly pulsing in time to each other's.

Stein smirked, the light reflecting off his glasses as he adjusted the screw at his side.

He went back into the building to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit for Shibuko/the DWO also goes to my sister, LianneSilver927, who came up with the idea of Kid setting up an orphanage for weapons who were abandoned as children, and insisted it be included. She's partly responsible for how Vayne turned out. ^^


	5. The Grimoire of Reality; Rei vs. Morgan!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, Rei can also be translated to 'ghost', meaning that the lineage of names in his family is Spirit - Soul - Ghost. Even though Spirit and Soul aren't actually related. Fun stuff ^^ (Armed with that knowledge, go look up the lyrics to Dementia by Owl City. Although Rei and Ayame are still rather far from the point where they start seeing each other that way~)
> 
> Mifune's names for the sword cuts might be different in different styles, but I'm using the names we use in my battojutsu class for them. Since we have the same names for the stances he names in the manga (Hasso-no-kamae and Waki-gamae), it felt like a safe bet.

**CHAPTER FOUR**

**The Grimoire of Reality; Rei vs. Morgan!**

* * *

Clark gripped the pendulum blade's handle with both hands, letting out a loud yell as he swung the blade in a wide arc overhead and brought it crashing down to the ground. Rei jumped back just in time, Ayame's shuriken form held in front of him like a shield as the force of Clark's blow split the ground in front of him, shockwaves forming identical furrows on either side of the main slice.

" _Yeah!"_ Vayne shouted from the orange-tinted space within his weapon form. _"Go for it!"_

"Tch," said Rei, gritting his teeth as the wind from the slash washed over him. He held Ayame's shuriken out in front of him with one hand, the large star-shaped weapon held across him to shield him as dirt and loose rocks shaken free by Clark's strike pelted them.

Inside her own soul space, Ayame had both her arms spread open to shield him, a scowl on her face. _"How the hell can that skinny bastard even_ lift _that?"_ she asked.

Rei tightened his grip on the handle in the center of the shuriken, charging forward in the aftermath of the strike. "That's what I'd like to know!" he yelled as he leaped into the air, lifting Ayame high over his head and bringing her down over the top of Clark and Vayne.

Vayne's weapon form was a large crescent-shaped blade, almost as tall as Clark was and just about as wide. It was a pendulum blade, the sort of thing that one might expect to find dangling overhead, but instead of a chain at the center of the blade, there was a long handle, allowing Clark to pick it up with one or both hands. Its sheer size and momentum made it a difficult weapon to wield, and made the ability to match wavelengths even more important.

The one time Rei had tried to wield Vayne, their wavelengths had been out of sync to the point where even the slightest movement made Vayne's momentum get the better of him, and the two of them had wound up spiraling wildly out of control and causing severe damage to their surroundings. It could have been much worse, had Maka and Soul not been around to separate them. Rei had never tried to wield Vayne again.

Clark, however, didn't seem to have that problem.

" _Above!"_ Vayne yelled as Rei reached the peak of his jump, cutting downwards at Clark's head.

Clark reached up, sunlight reflecting off his glasses as he adjusted them. "I know," he said, gripping the pendulum blade's handle with one hand and swinging it up to meet them. The shuriken's blade scraped against Vayne's flat as Rei crashed down and Clark turned, the momentum being built up by the pendulum sending Rei flying back. He flipped over in the air, landing crouched on the grass of the training forest and sliding backwards, Ayame held out in front of him.

Before Rei could fully recover, Clark completed his turn, using the momentum he had built to bring Vayne down onto the ground from overhead, slamming the blade into the earth. Energy shot outward in a line from Vayne to Rei, and Rei had to jump to the side and roll as the earth split in front of him, a blade of wind cutting through the space where he had been. The blade continued, tearing through the tree behind him and tearing one of the branches right off. His grip on Ayame's handle faltered, then tightened.

" _Don't let him psyche you out, Rei!"_ Ayame said, looking back at him.

"Yeah," said Rei, his eyes narrowing. He drew in a deep breath, adjusting his stance and facing Clark. "I know."

" _Let's go!"_ Ayame shouted as Rei charged forward, swinging the shuriken at Clark.

* * *

The wind from Clark's attack cut through the forest, blowing past the clearing where three of the DWMA's teachers were seated, enjoying their lunch while ostensibly supervising the spar. Stein reached out without a word as the wind blew through, holding their plates down as Marie shielded her cup of coffee from the dirt and debris and Maka moved to hold the corners of the blanket they were sitting on down. The wind passed, the sounds of steel on steel and the shouts of the combatants replacing it, and the three of them began eating again as if nothing had happened.

"Well, I see they're energetic," said Stein, reaching for one of Marie's sandwiches.

"They're so cute," Marie said with a smile, blowing across the surface of her cup of coffee before taking a sip. "They remind me of you when you were their age, Maka."

"Do they?" asked Maka, smiling. She reached out with a pair of chopsticks, picking up a bite of food from her bento. Behind her, the sound of someone or something crashing through the foliage rang out. The three of them looked up, a perfunctory glance to make sure no one was seriously injured, before going back to their meal.

"Yes," said Marie. "You and Soul. Where is he now, by the way? I know you two usually have lunch together."

"Kid sent him on a quick assignment," Maka said, all three of them pausing to look up as Rei and Ayame sailed overhead, the two of them thrown off by one of Clark's powerful swings. He landed on the ground, gritting his teeth and quickly pushed himself back up, launching himself over their heads as he charged at Clark again. Maka went on speaking as though nothing had happened. "Something about there being more ravens in town than usual. He sent Soul to investigate."

"I wonder how that's going," said Marie with a concerned frown.

Across from her, Stein said nothing, simply adjusting his screw.

* * *

"Shoo!" said Soul from where he stood on a rooftop somewhere, waving his hands at the multitude of ravens that had gathered there. "Come on, shoo! Go away! Get! Leave! Shoo!"

He walked through them, black feathers fluttering in their wake as the ravens jumped off the rooftop in a dark cloud, wings spread. The moment he moved past them, they settled on the rooftop again, eyeing him with beady black eyes. Soul grit his teeth, spinning back around to face them and letting his arm transform into a scythe blade.

"Go away!" He swept the blade low, causing the ravens to leap into the air, hovering an inch or so from the ground before settling back down into the rooftop. He swiped his scythe arm through the air a few more times, but each time the ravens only moved to get out of the way, landing back down on the rooftop as soon has he had passed.

"Get lost! No one wants you here!"

The nearest one cocked its head at him, several of its fellows following suit. Soul slapped his human hand to his face in frustration, letting out a groan.

"Why am I doing this?" he muttered to himself, looking out over the city. "I'm a Death Scythe, not a janitor. Freaking Kid. Could have just sent Spirit."

" _Caw!"_ said one of the ravens loudly, the one that had tilted his head at him.

"Aw, shut up!" said Soul, shooting that raven a glare.

* * *

"I'm sure Soul's doing fine," said Maka, taking another bite of food. "But speaking of Kid…"

She reached into her pocket as she chewed, pulling out a small, rectangular hand mirror. Kid took his role as Shinigami-sama seriously enough to not want to show any favoritism to Rei or Vayne or Ayame, but Maka had a feeling he might want to see this fight. She fogged the surface of the mirror with her breath, tracing out 42-42-564. The mirror glowed before being replaced with a view of Kid sitting at his desk in the Death Room, his own (perfectly symmetrical) lunch spread out in front of him.

"Maka," he said, nodding. "What's up?"

"I just thought you'd want to see this," said Maka, smiling. "Rei and Vayne are sparring against each other."

"Oh." Kid leaned closer to the mirror, interest in his gold eyes. "Show me."

Maka nodded, turning the mirror towards the fight. Rei was charging at Clark again, the wind from Clark's swings whistling through the trees and nearly spreading dirt and leaves over the teachers' lunch. Rei brought Ayame back for a few more strikes, swinging the shuriken down in quick succession, but Clark blocked each one, kicking up stronger and stronger breezes.

"Ah, fantastic," said Kid. "They've each grown tremendously."

"What's that?" asked an excited voice from behind Kid. Before the shinigami could react, Patty charged into the shot, pushing Kid's head out of the way and leaning close to the mirror. "Vayne's fighting? Yeah, get him Vayne! Split in him half! Cut off his head!" She pumped her fist excitedly in the air.

"Patty, that's my son…" said Maka, frowning.

"Gently!" Patty added.

Kid growled in frustration, reaching up and pushing Patty's face out of the way. The two of them struggled, Patty's shouts muffled as she tried to resume control of the mirror again.

"Anyway—," Kid said, sounding strained as he tried to keep Patty back. "—Thank you for showing me this, but I'm afraid I have to work—."

Patty opened her mouth suddenly, sinking her teeth into the meat of Kid's hand. Kid let out a very un-shinigami-like yelp, jerking his hand back away from her and letting Patty surge forward, filling up the mirror again.

"Yeah!" Patty said. "Come on, Vayne! Show 'im what you're made of!"

Kid struggled from beneath her as she pinned him down, his hand going up towards the mirror. The connection winked out, the surface of the mirror becoming glassy again. Maka pulled it back to her, glancing down at her own reflection.

"Some things never change," Stein noted, taking a bite of his sandwich.

"You're telling me," said Maka, putting the mirror away.

* * *

Clark spun to face Rei, bringing Vayne around in a powerful swipe. The blade caught Ayame between two of her shuriken's points and she grit her teeth, letting out a grunt of pain and effort as the two of them were forced back again. Rei landed lightly on the ground and ran, not giving Clark time to follow up on his attack as he moved opposite Clark's rotation, trying to flank him. Before he could get there, though, Clark finished his turn and faced him, grabbing Vayne in both hands and readying a strike. Rei quickly doubled back, looking for an opening.

" _Throw me,"_ Ayame said, her eyes narrowed from where she hovered in her soul space. The unearthly light around her gave her a blue tinge.

"You're sure?" Rei asked, glancing down at her.

" _I'm sure,"_ Ayame said. _"Throw. Run. Regroup. Do it now."_

"Roger."

Rei leaped to the side, landing lightly on the ground and turning to build up momentum. As he reached the end of his turn, he released his hold on Ayame, the shuriken flipping end over end in the air as she flew horizontally at Clark.

Clark raised Vayne up to meet her, swatting the shuriken out of the way with a powerful swipe. As the attack connected, Rei turned, dashing out of the clearing and into the cover of the trees. Ayame spun through the air where Clark had deflected her, banking and turning suddenly. She sliced through the foliage, coming at Rei from his right side, and Rei quickly reached out a hand, grabbing her and skidding to a stop. He could hear her breathing hard as he closed his hand around the handle, stopping the rotation.

Rei quickly spun around in the direction he had come, listening as Clark charged into the trees after him, his heavy footfalls giving his position away as he sliced through the foliage in an attempt to reach them. Vayne wasn't as maneuverable as Ayame, and their movement into the trees had bought them some time, but Rei knew it was only a matter of time until Clark caught up to them again.

" _Plan?"_ Ayame asked, when she had caught her breath.

"Working on it," said Rei, looking frantically around the area as their heavy footfalls came closer. An idea came to him then and he spread his legs apart wider, taking a stance that was lower to the ground.

"Hey, Ayame," he said. "You remember what Mifune-sensei was saying about reach and zones of safety?"

A grin appeared on Ayame's face as she realized where he was going with this. She sank down lower in her soul space, mimicking his stance. _"Sure do,"_ she said.

"What do you think Vayne's outer reach is?"

" _Way bigger than mine."_

"And his inside reach?" Rei asked.

Ayame's grin widened. _"Way shorter than mine. You sure about this, though?"_

"No," Rei admitted, feeling his stomach flutter with nerves. "But let's do it anyway. Kusarigama Mode."

Ayame shifted forms, her kusarigama's twin scythes settling into Rei's hands. He tested their weight, then looped the chain of the right-hand scythe around his palm, pulling it tight. Ayame's chain was cool against his skin, a reminder that she was there.

" _Get ready_ ," Ayame said, as the sound of pounding grew closer.

"I am," said Rei.

" _Now!"_ Ayame yelled, as Clark charged out of the underbrush to face them. But Rei was already moving.

He ran forward, his right-hand scythe close to his hip and his left-hand scythe extended in front of him. Clark brought Vayne over his head as Rei neared, slamming it down in a powerful arc. Rei saw the pendulum move as if in slow motion, saw the narrow window of opportunity he had before it would come crashing down, breaking bones at the very least if not cutting him entirely in two. He tried not to think about that, tried to trust that Vayne would hold back, tried to focus entirely on what he had to do.

" _GO FOR IT, REI!"_ Ayame shouted, the scythes warm in his hand. Vayne's slash came down, nearing his head.

At the last instant before it connected, Rei ducked and put on a sudden burst of speed, moving past the blade and inside Clark's reach. He reached up with the left-hand scythe, hooking it around the back of Vayne's blade and keeping it down as the right-hand scythe moved up, stopping an inch from Clark's neck. It froze there as Clark stood up straighter, his eyes wide. Rei looked up, his heart pounding, saw the position they had ended up in.

" _We did it!"_ Ayame yelled, breaking the silence as she jumped excitedly up and down. _"We won!"_

There was a flash and then Vayne reappeared, standing on the ground beside Clark and rubbing at the back of his neck. "Nice one," he said, giving Rei a sheepish smile. "Thought we had you for a second."

He extended his hand. Rei drew back from Clark, breathing heavily now, and let Ayame return to human form. His hands free, he reached out, clasping Vayne's hand with his own.

"Good job," Vayne said.

"Yeah," said Rei. "You too."

"Come on!" said Ayame, slapping Rei on the back hard enough to nearly send him stumbling forward. "Give your weapon some credit!" She grinned as she said it, showing him that he wasn't really mad.

"Sorry, Ayame," said Rei, releasing Vayne's hand. "Couldn't have done it without you."

"I'll admit to being a little disappointed," said Clark, taking his glasses off and cleaning them before putting them back on his face. "But still, good job, Rei. Ayame." He extended a hand towards Rei, one that Rei took. Clark smiled as they clasped hands, his grip tightening briefly.

"Still," he said. "Don't think that same trick will work next time."

"Oh, _next time_ ," said Ayame, turning towards Clark. She gave him a challenging smirk. "Is pretty boy saying he wants to go again?"

"I'm always ready to dance with a beautiful lady," said Clark, returning her smirk with one of his own. It faded as he glanced down at his watch, his expression growing concerned. "But maybe not right now. We're about to be late to Mifune's class."

That cut the revelry short, eyes widening all around.

"Crap!" Ayame said, shoving Rei towards the school and reaching around him to do the same to Vayne. "Come on, losers, get moving! We can make it if we run!"

"Slow down, Ayame!" Rei said, as he hurried to catch up with her. "We still have a few minutes!"

"I don't know about you, but _I_ take more than ten seconds to get into my gym clothes!" said Ayame from ahead of them. "And don't try to say anything, Rei!" she added as he opened his mouth. "You take longer to get ready in the morning than I do!"

Vayne laughed, falling into a jog beside Rei as the four of them ran towards the school. "She's got you there," he said.

Behind them, Clark began falling behind, his arm extended dramatically towards them as they neared the school gates. "I'm not going to make it," he said. "Tell Cassie I love her."

"Shut up and run, both of you!" said Rei, reaching back and grabbing Clark by the arm. He pulled the other meister between him and Vayne, forcing him to pick up the pace. Ahead of them, Ayame charged through the school, her hands trailing behind her as she ducked into the wind. Vayne nodded, grabbing Clark by his other arm, but couldn't seem to resist one last quip as they ran up the steps and into the building.

"She wouldn't have heard you anyway…"

* * *

Ayame held the wooden sword up over her head, bringing it down in a straight cut. She kept her grip relaxed, holding it in the end position and trying not to turn towards Mifune. He nodded at her out of the corner of his eye.

" _Kesagiri_ ," he said.

She moved the sword to the right, positioning it so it was beside her head, then brought it down in a powerful diagonal cut. At Mifune's nod, she shifted her stance, doing the same thing on her left side.

" _Yokogiri,"_ said Mifune, his expression unchanging.

A horizontal cut. She brought the sword across her body and stepped to the side as she swung, using her hips to add power to the swing. The wind rushed past in the sword's wake, whistling behind the wooden blade as she drew it to a stop.

" _Kiriage."_

The last of the basic cuts. Ayame took a step back, shifting into _waki-gamae_ , a hidden stance where the blade was pointed behind her. She shifted her weight and swung, the blade moving upwards in an ascending diagonal cut. Ayame held her position as the cut finished its arc, not moving.

Mifune studied her for a moment, taking in her stance and position before nodding. "Good," he said. "Help the others."

Ayame nodded, a grin on her face as she lowered her sword. "Hai, sensei!" she said cheerfully, running off to where her classmates were still working through the cuts. She stopped to correct Rhythm's balance and Morgan's footwork, then came to a stop in front of Rei, watching as he swung his sword in a downward diagonal cut over and over again.

"Bigger, Rei," she said, moving both her hands in an expansive gesture. "Come on. Cut like you mean it."

"I'm trying," Rei hissed, gritting his teeth as he swung his sword down again. He pulled it close to himself at the very end, cutting the arc short.

"Have some confidence," Ayame said. "Come on. You can do it!"

"Ayame, I said I was _trying_ ," said Rei.

"You can do it!" Ayame said. "I believe in you!"

"Ayame—." Rei grit his teeth in frustration, swinging his sword down in a powerful arc. The wind whistled behind it as it stopped at the end position and Ayame blinked, before her grin slowly spread across her face.

"See?" she asked. "I knew you could do it!"

Rei opened his mouth as if he was about to speak, but before he could say anything, Mifune clapped his hands once and the activity in the room ceased. Ayame blinked, looking over her shoulder as Rei lowered his sword to his side, watching Mifune. The swordsman walked into the center of the dojo, the class turning to follow him.

"You're each doing acceptable work with the sword," he said, "And it has come to my attention that each of you has had some time to work on your partnership. So today, we're going to start working on specific combat arts, starting with what you know so far." He held his wooden sword in both hands, holding it point down towards the ground like a staff and tapping the wooden floor of the dojo. "Sparring class," he said. "Everyone return to your partners."

There was silence as Mifune's words sank in. Rei blanched as he understood what Mifune was saying. Ayame grinned.

"These are the rules for sparring in this class," said Mifune, once they had all assembled their pairs again. Flashes of light appeared in the room as the weapons shifted, swords, staves, scythes, spears, and various other implements of destruction appearing in the hands of their respective meisters. Ayame rocked on the balls of her feet next to Rei, not shifting yet.

Mifune held up one finger. "One: The spar stops when someone forfeits or when I say stop. No exceptions. Two: No mortal injuries. Weapons, hold back from cutting. Three: Leaving the dojo through any means constitutes a loss. Other than that, there are no rules. Who would like to volunteer to go first?"

"We will!" said Ayame, grabbing Rei's hand and holding it up.

"We will?" asked Rei, glancing at her.

"Sure we will," said Ayame, grinning back. "Don't worry. After our lunchtime victory, how bad can this be?"

Mifune nodded. "Very well," he said. "Rei. Ayame. Choose an opponent."

Rei still looked uncertain, so Ayame gave him an encouraging smile, patting him on the arm. "Don't worry," she said. "I'll pick an easy one."

She stepped forward, moving into the circle that had formed around Mifune and looking at the members of their class. Ayame frowned in thought, studying them. Rei was still nervous about fighting sometimes, but he had been doing a lot better lately, so she resolved not to make this too hard on him. She passed over several fun-looking but intimidating weapons, deciding that she could have her fun when she'd built up Rei's confidence enough. Her eyes moved over the class, looking for the easiest opponent in existence.

They landed on Morgan, standing with Cassie in weapon form at the edge of the circle. Cassie's weapon form was a large, thick book, several ornate designs inscribed into the leather around her cover. It looked like a heavy book, but other than that, there didn't appear to be anything dangerous to speak of.

"I pick Morgan and Cassie!" said Ayame, pointing at them.

Morgan blinked, gesturing at herself and the book in her hand.

"Me?" she asked.

"Yep," said Ayame. "Unless you're scared."

Morgan said nothing in response to that, quietly stepping forward. Ayame grinned and rocked back on her heels, shifting into kusarigamaform and landing in Rei's hands. She felt Rei's uncertain grip on her as his fingers closed around the hilts, then sank back into her soul space and grinned as Rei stepped forward as well. Mifune looked between the two of them, stepping back and signaling the class to give them some room.

"Very well," he said. "Rei and Ayame versus Morgan and Cassandra. Begin."

He struck his sword against the ground, the sound echoing throughout the dojo. Rei charged forward at the signal, Ayame's kusarigama form tight in his hands.

* * *

Rei charged forward, the scythe blades held out at his sides. He didn't give himself time to think or second-guess, pouring everything he had into the attack. He didn't know what Morgan could do, but he knew if he hesitated to think about it, he would be lost and he didn't want the rest of the class to see that. So he closed the distance between him and his opponent in one quick dash, scythes poised to strike.

Morgan didn't move as he ran towards her, didn't do anything except to hold Cassie out in front of her and slowly open the book. She held it out to a blank page, raising her head to watch him. He neared her. She cleared her throat.

" _Ventus!_ " she said, her voice sharp. _"Ventus, ventum, venti!"_

The wind howled suddenly, slamming into Rei from his left side before he could reach her. His eyes widened as he found himself suddenly knocked off his feet, and he flipped over in the air, landing on the ground a few feet away from Morgan and skidding back. Morgan's eyes darted towards him, and before he could recover, she was already raising a hand, the wind dying down as the book began to glow.

" _Ignis!"_

He darted out of the way as a gout of fire tore through the air, heading towards him. The flames heated the air in their passing, a wave of heat washing over him as Rei tried to find a clear spot in the dojo. He tightened his grip on Ayame's hilts, trying not to panic.

"Easy fight, you said," he said as he skidded to a stop on the smooth wood of the dojo floor. "Don't worry, you said."

Ayame floated in her soul space, looking alarmed as she held her hands out to her sides. _"Don't worry, Rei,"_ she said. _"We can still do this."_

"Yeah, sure," Rei said, but he wasn't going to waste breath on arguing. He ran forward towards Morgan, trying to pick up speed. "Shuriken Mode."

Ayame shifted in his hands, taking on her shuriken form. Rei gripped her handle tightly in his right hand, running towards Morgan.

" _Ignis!"_ Morgan said again, holding up a hand towards him.

A second blast of fire appeared in the air in front of her, shooting at him. Rei swatted the blast aside with Ayame's shuriken form, sliding to the side on the smooth wooden floor before she could target him again and running towards her.

"Katana Mode!" he said.

She shifted in his hand, becoming a steel sword with a black hilt. Before Morgan could react, Rei darted forward, coming at her from the side with sword in hand. He saw her eyes flick towards him as he ran, saw the alarm in them as she tried to turn, but she would be too slow. He saw that, could feel Ayame's anticipation as he gripped the sword hilt in both hands, preparing a rising cut.

"And then there was ice," Morgan said suddenly, as though she was reading a story aloud. "It appeared on the floor in a circle around Morgan, slippery and wet."

A wave of cold shot outwards from her, frost crystals appearing on the floor around her.

" _Oh, no way,"_ Ayame said, her eyes widening. Rei's eyes widened as well as the floor beneath him suddenly turned to ice. He slipped, losing his footing and sliding across the floor. Students moved out of the way as he crashed to a stop against one of the walls, the impact knocking the wind out of him. Morgan went on reading, not looking up.

"A knight of ice rose up from the ice on the floor," she said, her brow furrowing in thought and concentration. "It had a sword in its hand. It carried a shield, and moved itself to protect her."

Rei grit his teeth, staring as an ice knight did rise up from the ground, taking a protective step in front of Morgan. It wasn't that big, about as large as she was, but it was squat and stalwart, dressed in ice armor and carrying a long sword. It turned to face him, sword and shield held at the ready, and he noticed that the ice on the floor had disappeared, the floor becoming wooden again.

"You've got to be kidding me," Rei muttered under his breath, standing up.

" _Rei—,"_ Ayame began.

Rei ignored her, darting forward. The knight raised his sword to meet him, swinging it down in an overhead chop. Rei blocked the blow with his own sword, Ayame's katana form slicing through the ice of the knight's sword and shaving off splinters that clattered to the ground. Before the knight could reposition itself, Rei dropped low, swinging his sword in a low slash and cutting through the knight's ankle. It pitched forward, but not before bringing a large, gauntleted fist down, the punch knocking Rei off his feet and sending him flying.

He tasted blood in his mouth, but he somehow managed to land on his feet. Something wet and warm trickled down the side of his face. Morgan wasn't moving, he noticed as he swayed unsteadily. She stood in place, her hands on the book, her eyes flicking from the knight to him as the knight stood up as well, its weight unsteady on its injured ankle.

He spat blood out on the ground, holding his katana out in front of him in a ready position. He was aware of everyone's eyes on him, aware of Mifune watching and evaluating, but at the moment, it hardly seemed to matter. His eyes moved from Morgan to the knight, his mind racing.

"She can only do one thing at a time," he said, keeping his voice low for Ayame's benefit. "She can't manage more than one invocation at a time. If she wants to do anything else, she'll have to dispel the knight."

" _Alright._ " Ayame sounded subdued, her usual grin a thoughtful frown as she watched him. _"You have a plan?"_

"Maybe," said Rei. "Kusarigama Mode. And get ready to fly."

Ayame nodded, her weapon form shifting in his hands to the form she had started with. Rei ran forward, hoping this would work as the knight turned towards him, sword and shield held at the ready. He ran towards the knight, then suddenly changed course as the knight turned to meet him, leaping into the air and darting to the side. As he leaped, he let go of the left hand scythe, flinging it at the knight.

"Now, Ayame!" he said.

The scythe moved through the air, the chain extending as Ayame let out a loud battlecry. It whipped around the knight, binding it tightly in place as Rei landed on the ground, holding the chain in his left hand and the scythe hilt in his right. He landed behind Morgan, scythe extended as he moved to slash at her.

Morgan turned as if in slow motion. Her eyes landed on him and he saw her smirk. It made his blood run cold and made him realize that he had made a mistake.

The knight shattered suddenly as she turned the page, the grimoire's new page blank in front of her. She spoke, and Rei saw the words form on the page as if she had written there.

" _Ventus,"_ she intoned again. _"Ventus, procella, venti."_

The wind howled, stronger than before. Before Rei could react, it slammed into him, pitching him into the wall. He heard wood splinter and break, felt pain as he tore through it, landing in a dizzy heap on the floor at the other side. A dust cloud appeared behind him and he coughed, the world spinning in place.

"Rei!" said Ayame, appearing at his side in a flash of light. She brushed dirt and debris off of him, bending down to help him up. "Are you okay?"

"Rei's out of the dojo," said Morgan, shutting her book with a decisive thud and glancing at Mifune. "I believe by those rules, I win."

Rei almost didn't hear what happened next as Mifune declared her the winner. The world spun alarmingly as he turned his head and he closed his eyes, leaning into Ayame.

* * *

"All better now, sleepyhead?" Vayne asked with a laugh as they were walking away from the school later that day, Rei still holding an ice pack to his head. He scowled at his friend, moving the ice pack to another sore spot. His spar with Morgan had left him with a few cuts and bruises, but nothing more serious than the damage to his pride, especially considering Clark and Vayne's easy victory in the next match.

"Shut up," he said. "Stop gloating."

"We'll get her next time," Ayame said, walking backwards and giving him a reassuring smile that had a little too much pity for his taste. "Don't worry."

"Who's worrying?" Rei asked, raising an eyebrow. The motion made the wound on his cheek sting and he hissed, looking away.

"I hope you don't feel as bad as you look," Clark said. "I'd hate to see you collapse at the movies because of your condition _…"_

Rei's eyes narrowed. "One more word about my _condition_ , four-eyes, I dare you."

"Hey," said Vayne, interrupting them. "Isn't that Morgan and Cassie over there?"

Rei looked up. Sure enough, Morgan was standing at the steps to the school, Cassie beside her. She was dressed in her usual attire again, a deep purple blouse, a pleated black skirt, and boots. Cassie stood beside her in a pale pink coat and ripped jeans, her headphones hanging around her neck.

"Alone again," Clark noted, shaking his head. "It's a shame."

Rei frowned. Clark had a point. As far as he knew, Morgan didn't talk to anyone, didn't seem to have any other friends aside from Cassie. And while Cassie was friendly enough, she didn't usually hang around anyone either.

"We could invite her to the movies," he said, uncertainly. "Maybe."

"Great idea," said Vayne. He cupped his hands around his mouth, shouting to them. "Hey, Morgan! Cassie! We're heading to the movies. Wanna come?"

Morgan looked up, turning towards them. At first, Rei thought she hadn't heard, or that she was planning on ignoring them, but then her expression changed as she registered that they were talking to her, becoming confused and skeptical. She pointed at herself.

"Us?" she asked.

"Sure, why not?" asked Vayne. "The more the merrier. Right, Rei?"

He wanted to kick Vayne. Since that would definitely not endear him to either Morgan or Cassie right now, he settled for glaring at his friend, turning to Morgan. "Uh, yeah," he said. "Come with. It'll be fun."

"We're watching _Chainsaw Carnival IV_ ," said Ayame with a grin, lacing her fingers together behind her neck. "It'll be a blast."

"No, we're not!" said Vayne, paling at her words. "We're watching the space movie!"

Ayame made a face. "I don't want to watch a boring space movie," she said. "I wanna see the chainsaws!"

"We are _not_ going to see the chainsaws!" said Vayne, shaking his head. "Not, not, no way, nuh-uh, no!"

"Chicken!" said Ayame, grinning at Vayne.

"I am not a chicken!" said Vayne, shaking his head. "I just…I just don't like chainsaws."

Ayame made chicken noises at Vayne, moving her arms in the shape of wings. Vayne glared at her.

The sound of a giggle made them both look up, turning towards Morgan and Cassie. Morgan was smiling, turning her face away to hide the gesture, and Cassie was giggling into her sleeve.

"Can we go?" Cassie asked, looking up at Morgan. "Please?"

"I—." Morgan started to speak, then hesitated, looking away.

"Please?" Cassie asked again. "It'll be fun."

"I—um—sure," said Morgan. "We can go to the movie."

"Yay!" said Cassie. Without a word, she stepped forward, joining the group. Morgan hesitated before moving to join her, and they stepped aside to give her room, absorbing the two of them as they started walking down the steps.

"As I was saying," Vayne was saying as they walked down the steps. "We are _not_ going to see any chainsaws or carnivals. No way, no how, no chance."

"A love story, then?" asked Clark, pushing his glasses up. "Something romantic?"

"Not that either," said Vayne with a scowl, shoving him with a hand.

"Well if Vayne would rather wait outside with the kiddie rides…" Ayame began.

"Hey!" said Vayne, turning towards her.

Their laughter followed them as they moved down the steps, heading into the city.

* * *

_**Meanwhile, elsewhere in Death City…** _

"The sun's starting to set," Kid said from the hand mirror in front of him. "How's the mission going?"

"See for yourself," said Soul with a scowl, turning the mirror up. He was seated cross-legged on the rooftop, scowling. Ravens were perched on his arms, legs, and the top of his head, one of them trying to peck at the mirror. Kid blinked, staring at him.

"I…uh…see you're experiencing some difficulties," he said.

"Don't say it," said Soul.

" _Caw!"_ the raven on top of his head said, tilting its head to the side. Soul folded his arms as it shifted and pecked at its neighbor.

"This is so not cool," he muttered.

* * *

**Bonus Scene/Omake:**

(Dedicated to any _Akagami no Shirayukihime / Snow White with the Red Hair_ fans in the audience. If you don't know what any of those are, all you have to know is that it's a really sappy love story and Obi is kind of a ninja.)

Ayame let out a high-pitched squeal from where she lay on the floor of her bedroom, clutching the manga tightly to herself. She lay on her stomach, kicking her legs back and forth with excitement and pounding them against the ground as she stared at the pages.

" _Obi!"_ she said, letting out another squeal of excitement and giggling as she rolled over and hugged the manga to her chest. "Why is Obi so cool?" she asked no one in particular as she raised the book up, flipping the page. She let out another squeal, kicking the floor…

X

_Thump, thump. Thump thump._

Rei frowned from the kitchen as he heard thumping noises coming from the ceiling, glancing up. Was it just his imagination, or could he hear high-pitched squealing as well? He glanced down at the stew he was making and back up to the ceiling as it started again, then made a decision, placing the lid on the plot and walking up the stairs.

"Ayame?" he asked, wiping his hands on his apron as he reached her room. He reached for the door. "Everything okay in there?"

Rei pushed it open. Ayame was seated on the floor, her hands behind her head as she did sit-ups.

"1245," she said. "1246. 1247. 12…"

Rei frowned, drops of sweat appearing on the back of his head as he closed the door, moving back down into the kitchen.

X

The moment the door was closed, Ayame rolled over, pulling the manga out from its place beneath the pile of pillows and stuffed animals next to her and opening it to the page she had stopped at. Her face warmed as she looked down at the pages, letting out another giddy squeal.

"Obiiiiii!" she said again.


	6. The Red House Mystery Part 1; Rei's First Mission!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad you guys enjoyed the Soul scene from the last chapter. I'm going to try and make sure that the original cast get some representation, if not in every chapter, then in most of them. Even though Rei is the main character, Maka and the others still have (very awesome) parts to play in the plot, and are just as important to the story as Stein, Marie, Spirit, Sid, and Naigus were to the original. (That means, yes, Black Star and Tsubaki will be making an appearance too. Keep an eye out for it~)
> 
> The book Cassie is reading is called Words of Radiance by Brandon Sanderson. It's ginormous, and very very good. Highly recommend, but start with The Way of Kings first.
> 
> If Stein's treatment of Black Star during the exam is any indication, the E.A.T. class apparently doesn't have the same rules about corporal punishment that any other American school does.

**CHAPTER FIVE**

**The Red House Mystery Part 1; Rei's First Mission!**

* * *

"Cassie," said Maka, from the front of the classroom. "Cassie?"

Rei turned around, as did most of the class seated below him. Cassie sat at the row of desks above him, her headphones placed firmly over her ears. She was hunched over, fully absorbed in reading a fantasy novel that seemed to Rei's eye to be almost as large as she was. She read at lightning speed, flipping the pages so fast that Rei could have sworn he felt a breeze.

" _Cassie!"_ Maka said again, louder and sharper than the last time.

Morgan elbowed her in the ribs from her seat next to her, making Cassie look up. She blinked, her eyes moving over the classroom before landing on Maka at the bottom of the room, her fists resting on her hips. Maka motioned in the general direction of her ears with an impatient hand and Cassie reached up, pushing her headphones down around her neck.

"Maka-sensei?" she asked in apparent confusion.

"No headphones in class," Maka said. "And please put the book away."

"Five more minutes?" Cassie asked, holding up the book. "Kaladin's about to fight Szeth. _Please?"_

"No," said Maka. "Put the book away and read it after class."

"After class, huh?" Cassie repeated. A gleam of mischief appeared in her eye as she looked up at the clock. She smiled, holding out her hands in front of her. _"And then class was over for the day, and everyone left,"_ she said, in a cheerful voice. A tremor passed outward from her, moving through the seats around her.

From beside Rei, Ayame's hand moved to her notebook, shoving it into her backpack as she got to her feet. Rei blinked, realizing that he was also halfway out of his seat, his own bag in his hand. He looked around, noticing that the students seated around Cassie were all staring in confusion, bags and books in their hands.

Maka was fuming.

" _Cassandra_ ," she said, her tone a warning. She had her gradebook clutched in one hand, the other clenched tightly into a fist.

"Huh…" Cassie said. "Guess it doesn't work on that many people at once. Um… _and then Maka-sensei wasn't angry at all with Cassie and decided to forget everything that had happened."_

A ripple passed over Maka's expression, her frown faltering for a moment before it returned in force. She glared at Cassie, beginning to stomp up the steps towards where they were seated. Rei shrank back into his seat in spite of himself. He knew she wasn't angry with him, but he _recognized_ that expression.

Cassie gulped, sinking back into her seat and speaking quickly. _"And then Maka-sensei calmed down and went back to her desk. And then Maka-sensei forgot that Cassie was here. And then Cassie was invisible. And then Cassie didn't exist—."_

"MAKA CHOP!" said Maka, bringing the book down with a crash.

Cassie whimpered in the aftermath, her arms clasped tightly over her head as Maka walked calmly down the steps towards the front desk. She set her gradebook down, smoothing out her skirt with one hand and clearing her throat.

"As I was saying," she said. "It's time for each of you to go on your first extracurricular assignment. So, I'm going to dismiss class early so that all of you can go to the Mission Board and choose an assignment that feels right for you. All assignments appropriate for one-star meisters will be open to this class, but since this is your first mission, I'd like to ask you to go in teams of two or three meisters, for safety purposes. Classes will be suspended for the next two days to give you all time to complete your assignments. If you need more time than that, you need to contact Shinigami-sama while on assignment and make your case. And remember, the mission doesn't end until you come home safely. Dismissed."

* * *

"So that's that," said Vayne, his hands on the back of his neck as he walked with Rei and the others down the hall. Cassie hummed to herself as she trailed behind them, her headphones already back on her head and her nose already in her book. "We'll go in a team of six."

"Seems fair," said Rei, nodding. "Are you alright with that, Morgan?"

"Hmm?" asked Morgan, looking up. The grimoire meister had been spending time with them more as of late, but she always seemed surprised to be addressed in conversation, as if she wasn't used to being spoken to. "I have no problems with it if you don't."

"I would never object to your presence, dear Morgan," said Clark, with a smile. "Or that of my lovely Cassandra."

"Ugh, can we gag him?" Ayame asked, making a face. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

"Be my guest," said Vayne, patting Clark on the back as Clark shot him a glare.

"Focus, guys," said Rei, as they neared the board. "We're here to choose a mission."

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you," said Ayame. She looked up at the board ahead of them, grinning. "I wonder what it'll be. Pick something exciting, Rei."

"Yeah, somewhere interesting too," said Vayne. "Like, I dunno. Egypt or Peru or like, Paris."

"Eh, Paris isn't all that exciting," said Ayame, waving her hand dismissively. "And my parents are in Egypt. Let's not go there."

"I keep forgetting you're quite the world traveler, Ayame," said Clark, smiling at her.

"Yep," said Ayame proudly, placing a hand on her chest. "Five continents before my tenth birthday. I can speak like twelve languages too—mostly cuss words and how to start a bar fight, but my English and Japanese are pretty good. So where are we going? Russia? China? Ooh, Hawaii's great this time of year!"

"How about New York state?" asked Morgan, picking one of the pieces of paper off the wall.

Ayame looked disappointed. "I guess that works," she said.

"New York?" Rei asked, stepping closer to her. "What's in New York?"

In response, Morgan handed the piece of paper off to Rei. "You have Soul Perception, don't you, Rei?"

"Uh…sort of," said Rei, taking the sheet from her.

"What d'you mean, 'sort of'?" asked Ayame. "It's an ability. You either have it or you don't."

"He means it's on his file, but he's not actually sure he can use it," said Vayne, grinning. He slung an arm around Rei's shoulder, one that Rei pulled off of himself with an annoyed scowl. He held the sheet of paper that Morgan handed to him up, reading it quietly.

"What is it?" Vayne asked, looking over his shoulder. Rei wordlessly shifted, giving Vayne access. The other boy leaned over to read.

_Objective: Solve the mystery of the haunted red house_

_Requirements: Soul Perception and bravery_

The sheet went on to describe that locals had been reporting strange activity at a supposedly haunted house on the outskirts of their town for a while, ever since the death of its former owner. These events always seemed to happen at night, and only to those who were staying at the house overnight. The mission was to stake out the house over a period of one or two nights in an attempt to solve the mystery.

With each line that he read, Vayne's face grew progressively paler.

"I—," he said. "I—uh, I'd love to go with you guys on this one, but, uh—ooh, this looks interesting!" He reached for the board at random, pulling a sheet of paper from it and reading it. "Stop an oni from terrorizing a town—Japan. Japan sounds super interesting, doesn't it, Clark? I think we should go to Japan. Sorry guys. Have fun!"

He reached out and grabbed onto the back of Clark's collar before the meister could protest, dragging him back into the crowd of students.

"Wait!" Clark said, extending his arms towards them as Vayne dragged him backwards on his heels. "I wanted to stay at a haunted house with Cassie!"

"Whoops, too late, we're going to Japan!" said Vayne, waving the sheet of paper in his free hand. "Hey, anyone wanna come to Japan?"

Before Rei could see if anyone had taken him up on that offer, the crowd shifted, hiding Vayne and Clark from view. He blinked, then looked back at the others. Ayame and Morgan had the same confused expressions on their faces, and behind them Cassie was still absorbed in her book, swaying with excitement as she flipped the pages. He exchanged a glance with Morgan and then Ayame in turn. Ayame shrugged a shoulder at him as Morgan nodded.

"Alright," Rei said, walking over to the woman seated behind the desk next to the mission board. "I guess it's just us four. Ma'am, we'll be taking this one." He placed the sheet of paper on the desk, sliding it towards her.

* * *

The school was quiet at lunch time, with the first-year E.A.T. class and many of the older students out on assignment. It was hot outside, the desert sun coming back into full force to celebrate the last few weeks of summer, so Maka decided to eat in the staff lounge today. She found Soul already there, eating absent-mindedly with one hand as he studied a sheaf of official looking documents with the other.

Maka settled into the seat next to him with a sigh, letting out her breath in a long and audible exhale. Soul didn't look up from his reading as he spoke to her.

"They're all gone?" he asked.

"Yeah," Maka said. She sank back into the plush seats of the staff lounge, closing her eyes and ignoring her meal for now. "All gone."

"You know Rei will be fine, right?" asked Soul.

"Yeah," said Maka, letting out another sigh. "I know."

"What's that?!" asked a loud voice from behind them, making both Maka and Soul jump. They turned to see Spirit standing behind the couch, directly in between them. "My grandson is on his first mission? Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"How long h ave you _been_ there?!" Soul demanded.

"A Death Scythe never reveals his secrets," said Spirit with a grin. "Something you have yet to learn, my young successor." He reached out, patting Soul once on the head. While Soul fumed, Spirit turned to Maka. "Where did he go? Which mission did he go on?"

"The haunted house one," Maka said. "He went with Morgan and Cassie."

Spirit blinked, taking a moment to process that. Maka groaned inwardly, already knowing that it had been the wrong thing to say. She could picture Spirit placing Rei in one column in his mind, Morgan, Ayame, and Cassie in the other.

"My Rei," Spirit finally said, "is spending the night alone, in a house, with three girls?"

"On a _mission,_ " Maka said, her eyes narrowing.

"Oh, I'm so proud," said Spirit, stars in his eyes. "He takes after me."

There was a crashing sound, mostly the result of Maka's foot making contact with Spirit's face.

"He does _not_ take after you!" Maka said, reaching out and grabbing Soul by the wrist. "Come on, Soul, let's eat outside."

"Wait—Maka," said Soul, hurrying to catch up with her. "You forgot your lunch—."

The door to the staff lounge slammed shut.

* * *

"Alright, ghosts!" Ayame yelled, charging in through the front door and pointing dramatically. "Prepare to be _busted_!"

Silence followed in her wake. Rei stepped into the house after her, giving her a sidelong glance. "Was that necessary?" he asked.

Ayame thought for a second. "Probably not," she said. "But it was fun."

He sighed, setting his bag down and looking around. The house seemed normal so far, but then again, it was still the middle of the afternoon. He moved past Ayame, stepping into the living room and taking a deep breath.

Morgan stepped up next to him, her footsteps quiet against the carpeted floor. He stepped to the side to give her room, closing his eyes and opening up his senses.

It was like dropping a stone into a still pond. At first, he felt nothing, but then his natural abilities began to overcome his own uncertainty and inexperience, waves of awareness rushing outward from him in slow pulses. They brushed against the presences of the three people in the room with him, struck the walls around him and came back to him, the waves overlapping each other. He felt Ayame's tightly-guarded impatience, felt Cassie's distracted curiosity as she started pacing around the room and poking at things, the light pink orb that was her soul bobbing up and down in its space within her. He felt Morgan's quiet presence beside him, felt the way she was searching as well, her own awareness overlapping his.

He didn't feel anything else.

Rei opened his eyes, the awareness dropping away from him like water through the gaps between his fingers. Beside him, he saw Morgan do the same thing, her breath hitching as she came back to herself.

"Anything?" he asked her.

"No, nothing," she said. "It looks normal." She frowned as if that troubled her.

"Well something's _definitely_ off," said Cassie, poking at a clock on the mantel.

"Yeah?" Ayame asked, picking up Rei's discarded bag and slinging it over her shoulder as she moved to join them. "What's that?"

"Morgan dearie, how long has this place been abandoned?" Cassie asked.

"Two years," Morgan said.

"Oh, I get it," said Ayame, comprehension dawning on her face. She looked around. "No dust."

"Exactly," said Cassie. "This place looks almost _spotless_. Abandoned buildings don't look this nice, believe me."

Rei looked around. True enough, the mantel, furnishings, and baseboards were free of dust, and the curtains that hung in front of the windows seemed flowing and in good repair. He looked back at Morgan. "You're sure we're in the right house?"

"I'm sure," said Morgan. "The address matches the address in the mission briefing, and the first floor looks to be laid out exactly like the floor plan we were given. Also, it was red. It almost feels like we're being…welcomed." She stepped forward slowly, moving past them and making her way up the stairs towards the bedrooms. Cassie blinked before trailing along behind her, dragging her oversized duffel bag up the stairs with her.

Her words sent a shiver down Rei's spine. He glanced over at Ayame, who was watching Morgan and Cassie walk up the stairs. She didn't look entirely comfortable with this either. The thought that Ayame might be scared was comforting in its own way, because it told him he wasn't in this alone, but it was also terrifying.

"Hey, wait," Ayame said, following them. Rei followed her, not really wanting to be left in the living room alone. "Welcomed? Welcomed by what?"

"By whatever's living in this house," said Morgan from the top of the stairs, not looking back. "I imagine we'll find out why tonight. You two don't mind sharing the guest room?"

"Wait, what?" Ayame asked.

Morgan blinked at Ayame as the four of them reached the top of the stairs, looking as if she didn't really understand the question. "The guest bedroom has two beds," she repeated. "The master bedroom only has one double bed. I thought since you two were partners you wouldn't mind sharing a room, but if you're uncomfortable, we could make room for you on the floor..."

"No, not that," said Ayame, waving her hand in frustration. "Go back to the ghost. Why do we have to wait until tonight? Can't you two just…I don't know, magic the ghost up?"

Morgan exchanged a glance with Cassie, who gave Ayame an apologetic smile in response.

"It doesn't work like that, Ayame dear," Cassie said. "My powers can't really influence _people_. I can come up with a pretty convincing illusion, but it's not mind control. And even if I could, I can't influence something if I don't even know what it is. If I tried, I'd just be drawing from my imagination, and while I'm sure I could make up a perfectly scary ghost, it would be just that. Made up."

"So we're stuck here?" Ayame asked.

"Looks like," said Cassie. "Chin up, though. I brought sleepover supplies." Her smile brightened, and she tugged on the strap of her oversized bag.

"You brought what?" Rei asked, blinking at her.

"Sleepover supplies," said Cassie, grinning. "I brought s'more ingredients and nail polish and magazines and scary movies and—."

"Alright, alright," said Rei, holding up a hand to stop her. "I get it. Let's—uh—let's settle in and look around the house while we still have daylight. We can meet up after for your—uh—sleepover supplies."

"Sounds good," said Cassie, dragging her bag into the master bedroom. "Morgan?"

Morgan followed in her weapon's wake, looking a little bemused. Rei watched the two of them go, looking back at Ayame. His weapon was studying her nails, still carrying both their bags. He took his back from her, not because she looked like she was having any difficulty with it, but because she was holding both so easily that it made him feel a little embarrassed.

"Come on," he said. "Let's put these down and look around."

* * *

It took him and Morgan about an hour to canvas the whole house, stopping in every room to use their Soul Perception. The house wasn't very large. It had two floors, a small attic, and a basement that consisted of just one room. Everywhere they went, the house seemed clean and well-tended to, as if the owner had just left for the weekend and they were intruders, breaking into the place. There was even a book lying next to the bed in the master bedroom, a bookmark in it as if the reader was going to be back any day now. He checked the publication year, more out of curiosity than anything. 1989. It looked new.

Other than the strange anachronism, though, and the fact that the house looked clean despite being abandoned for two years, it looked normal. Rei would have said that Shinigami-sama was playing a prank, if he didn't know for a fact that Shinigami wasn't that kind of person, and if something in the house didn't strike him as profoundly odd.

It was strange. He couldn't put a name on the feeling, couldn't even feel anything concrete with his Soul Perception, but something felt _off_ around the place. It felt sad, almost as if the house was crying. He'd asked Morgan about it, but she had only looked at him as though he was losing his mind, so he'd dropped the subject. It looked like the rumors were true. They wouldn't be hearing anything about the ghost until well after the sun went down. The four of them settled in to wait.

An hour later, Rei found himself sitting on the couch, his phone in his hands as Ayame sat on the floor next to him, happily painting her nails a vibrant electric blue.

"That looks good, Ayame," said Cassie, unpacking the rest of her manicure kit. "It matches your hair."

"Thanks," said Ayame, with a grin. "Gonna put little gold stars on it when it dries."

"Oh, that's going to look so _cute_ ," said Cassie, with a smile. "You're going to use the glitter polish for that?"

"Of course," said Ayame, holding her hand up to the light. "They wouldn't be stars if they didn't shine."

"Won't that bother you when you're fighting?" asked Rei, lying back against the couch and raising his phone up in front of his face.

"Nah, not really," said Ayame. "If it gets chipped, it gets chipped, but it's fine for now."

"Huh…" Rei responded noncommittally, pillowing his head on his arm. His phone buzzed with a text from Vayne.

_**17:24** _ _How are you holding up in Sleepoverville?_

He dragged his thumb across the screen, typing up a quick response.

_**17:24** _ _Surviving. You?_

_**17:25** _ _So-so. Still in transit. Clark says if you touch Cassie, he'll kill you slowly. Told him to text you himself, but he's being a dork._

Rei snorted softly at that, tapping out his response.

_**17:26** _ _What else is new? Besides I'm not interested._

Vayne's response, when it came, was a while in coming.

 _ **17:28**_ _Well yeah, cause it's not C you're interested in, is it?_

Rei arched an eyebrow, scowling at his phone. He sat up, typing out a more furious response.

 _ **17:28**_ _Huh?_

_What's that supposed to mean?_

_**17:29** _ _Nothing._

Vayne's response floated on his screen, immediately followed by another.

_**17:29** _ _How's A doing?_

Rei's eyes widened. _"Idiot,"_ he began to type. _"I'm not interested in—,"_

"Who you texting, Rei?" Ayame asked, tilting her head back and giving him a lazy grin. "Your girlfriend?"

He dropped the phone, the smartphone slipping out of his fingers and landing wedged between him and the couch. "No!" he said a little too quickly, feeling the heat rise to his face.

"Rei has a girlfriend?" Cassie asked, looking up from painting Morgan's nails a deep purple.

"Nah," said Ayame. "It's probably Vayne or something."

"It _was_ Vayne!" Rei snapped, grabbing his phone and quickly returning it to the home screen. He got up. "I'm gonna try and get dinner together."

His phone buzzed by the time he made it to the kitchen, and he dug it out of his pocket, glancing down at him.

 _ **Message from Gramps,**_ the screen read, and then below it, _**REI! I heard from your mom. I'm so proud of you. Don't forget—**_

Rei deleted the message without reading it, scowling as he shoved his phone into the back pocket of his jeans and walked towards the stove.

It was almost dark, and with the town far enough away and probably not willing to deliver food to the local haunted house, they'd brought some of their own supplies with them. Pasta wouldn't take long to make and would probably be filling enough. He pulled a pot from the cupboard, checking to make sure that it didn't have dirt, insects, or any ghostly apparitions in it before filling it with water and setting it on the stove to boil.

"Can I help you?" asked a voice from behind him.

He tensed, looking up to see Morgan standing there. He hadn't even heard her leave the living room. She was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, nails freshly painted, watching him with that stare that was equal parts aloof and uncertain. His eyes moved down to her hands.

"Won't it mess up your…?" he began.

Morgan shrugged. "It's quick drying," she said walking over to the counter. She stood beside him, not quite looking at him. "I never really cared about getting it done anyway. It was Cassie's idea."

"She seems excited about the whole thing," said Rei, reaching for the vegetables.

"She's never had a sleepover before," said Morgan quietly. "It was all she could talk about when we went home to pack."

"Ayame too, probably," Rei said, running the vegetables under the tap water to rinse them. His partner would never admit it, but she was probably as excited as Cassie had been. "She moved around a lot as a kid. Never had the chance."

"Cassie doesn't talk about her past," was all Morgan said on the subject. "And what about you, Rei? Any sleepovers in your history?"

"Some," said Rei with a shrug. "Mostly Vayne staying over when we were kids. You?"

Morgan didn't answer. She went so still that for a moment Rei worried that he had somehow offended her. He looked up, frowning, and she shook her head, shaking herself out of whatever trance had gripped her as she reached for the vegetables he had laid out in front of her with one hand, taking hold of a knife in the other.

"No," she said. "None."

He didn't ask her again.

* * *

He dreamed of screaming, terror and blood and awoke to cold fingers pressed against his cheek, sliding down his face with a pressure that burned.

Rei's eyes snapped open, looking straight into a pair of soulless black eyes that hovered above him. A hand was pressed against the side of his face, a weight pressing him down into the mattress. He screamed, thrashing against the unnatural figure, trying to break free. It opened its mouth, its breath foul and rank as it hissed at him, leaning closer.

"Hey! Get off of my _partner!"_

The weight lifted suddenly as Ayame surged across the room, throwing the creature bodily off of him and pinning it to the wall. It vanished into mist on impact, disappearing without a trace. Rei sat up, heart pounding and skin clammy. His mind raced, still working through the image of black eyes, a pale face, lank black hair.

"You okay?" Ayame asked, turning towards him. She was breathing hard, disheveled from sleep as if she had only just woken up. Rei nodded, not trusting his voice. He slipped out from under the covers and landed on his feet, looking around hastily in the dark.

Dust motes floated in the air and the floor boards creaked in a way that they hadn't before. With the creature's disappearance, the appearance of the room had changed, the bed now looking decrepit and moth-eaten, the wallpaper now peeling off the walls. The window was cracked and dirty and the wind howled in it, the timbers of the old house groaning in its wake. He coughed dust and bile out of his throat, turning towards Ayame.

"I'm fine," he said. "What was that?"

"No clue," said Ayame, looking slightly shaken as well. The four of them had stayed up as long as they were able, but when nothing strange happened, finally retreated to their rooms to sleep. Rei didn't know how long he had been asleep, but the shadows stretched throughout the room now, the darkness pooling in corners and under the bed.

He rubbed at his neck, and to distract himself from the memory of cold fingers on him, reached for his phone. Light flared up at a touch, reading the time. 4:14 AM. He drew in a breath, his eyes flicking up to the upper right corner of his screen.

"No service," he said.

"Yeah," said Ayame. "It looks like we're on our own."

As if on cue, a scream sounded from down the hall, making both Rei and Ayame look up.

"Cassie," Ayame said.

Rei nodded, running out of the room and into the hallway. The door to the master bedroom was slammed shut, still solid despite the rot beginning to creep in around its hinges. He threw himself against it, trying the knob, but it was locked. From the other side, Rei could hear something crashing, could hear gurgling sounds like someone was being choked.

"Morgan!" he said, pounding at the door with his fist. "Cassie! Morgan!"

No response. Rei snarled in frustration, holding his hand out to Ayame. "Katana Mode!" he said.

Ayame nodded, shifting into the black-hilted sword. Rei gripped the katana with both hands, taking a step back and letting out a loud yell as he cut twice, slicing through the door in an X. He kicked it the rest of the way open, the door splintering along the cracks as Rei charged his way through.

The inside of the room was a nightmare. The sheets of the double bed were rumpled, the right side stained in dark blood, in the shape of a human. Morgan was hovering in the center of the room, being lifted off of her feet by the same entity that had attacked Rei. Now that he was seeing it clearly, he saw that the creature had the shape of a woman. She was dressed in a filmy blood-spattered robe that might have been white, her hair hovering around her face and tendrils of shadow around her as she hissed at Morgan. She had her fingers around Morgan's throat, squeezing her tightly and holding her off the ground as Morgan thrashed, gripping at the fingers with one hand as she tried to hold onto Cassie's weapon form with the other. She kicked and struggled, gasping for breath.

Shadows surrounded the ghost, leading to a pool of blackness behind her, a portal where the wall simply disappeared from sight.

Rei didn't hesitate, charging forward. "Let her _go_!" he yelled loudly, bringing the sword up overhead and swinging it down at the ghost's wrists. The blade cut through her arms easily, shadows spewing out from the stumps instead of blood as the ghost shrank back, letting out a shriek of anguish. Morgan dropped to the floor, but the hands kept choking her.

"Morgan!" Cassie said, shifting out of weapon form in a flash of pink light. "Morgan!"

Morgan was turning purple. Rei's eyes narrowed, looking from her to the ghost that still hovered in the air in front of him, thrashing in pain.

"I said—Let. Her. _Go!_ "

He charged at the ghost, angling Ayame's katana form for a thrust. The thrust caught it in the center of its chest, severing its spine. The ghost went rigid as the sword sank into it, falling back into the darkness. The momentum of his thrust threw him forward, after it. He struggled to right himself, but he couldn't, the ghost wrapping its arms around the sword and holding him in place. It hissed at him, its mouth curving into an unholy sneer as it dragged them down with him.

The darkness closed around him as he fell into it, his eyes wide as he tightened his grip on Ayame's hilt, refusing to let go.

The last thing he heard was Cassie screaming, calling his name. And then he and Ayame were falling.


	7. The Red House Part 2; Doll of Despair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has come to my attention that there is at least one other fic where Stein and Marie's child is named Shelley. I'm not surprised, because I'm fairly certain I'm not the first person who thought Shelley (after Mary Shelley, the writer of Frankenstein), would be the perfect name for a Stein x Marie baby. I didn't intend to copy anything, but the name Shelley Stein has been firmly in my headcanon for a while, so I'm just going to go along with it. If anyone has any issues with it, please let me know in a PM and I can see what I can do.

**CHAPTER SIX**

**The Red House Part 2; Doll of Despair**

* * *

Rei landed on the ground with a thud that knocked the wind out of him, the impact sending Ayame skittering out of his hands. He let out a hissing breath, sliding his hand underneath himself to push him up to his feet. The world around him was dark, walls, floor and ceiling nothing but endless black. Beside him, he saw a flash of light and then Ayame was on her feet as well, taking a step back to put herself closer to him but not taking her eyes off of her surroundings.

"Rei," she said, her voice echoing oddly in the strange space. "You okay?"

"Yeah," said Rei. "I think so. You?"

"Fine," said Ayame.

She looked up, the way they had come. Rei looked as well, but the darkness stretched on endlessly, without any sign of ending. There was no sign of Morgan or Cassie, no sign of the room.

"Where are we?" Ayame asked.

"No clue," said Rei.

He looked around sharply as the space suddenly changed, the darkness pulling away from them and revealing wooden floorboards and a carpeted floor, the living room of the house they had just left.

Someone was standing behind the couch, smirking at them. Her eyes were black, soulless, the same eyes of the creature that had accosted him and attacked Morgan, but everything else about her appearance was different. She was tall and pale, wearing a white nightgown, beautiful in a knife-edged way, with red lips and nails painted black. Her hair no longer draped around her face, but flowed with life and volume, at odds with the blackness of her eyes. A pointed hat lay perched atop her head, and a shiver ran down Rei's spine.

Her smirk widened, showing a flash of white teeth, and she extended a hand to him. As she did, Rei saw that her form was slightly transparent, revealing the soul within. It was deep pink, swirling with power gathered close to itself.

A Witch's Soul.

"Rei," Ayame said, and Rei realized that Ayame could see it too, as if the soul was no longer attached to a physical body. "That's—."

"I know," said Rei, holding out his hand to Ayame. "Kusarigama form."

Ayame nodded, transforming in a flash of light. Rei curled his fingers tightly around her hilts, sinking down and waiting. His heart pounded in his chest, but he tried to keep himself calm, tried to keep his eyes on the witch.

No. Not a witch.

A witch's ghost.

Her lips parted in a wicked sneer, her face twisting into something unnatural as she turned to Rei. When she spoke, her voice had a rattling quality to it, like bones.

"Do you mean to kill me, boy?" she asked, letting out a high-pitched laugh that grated. "I've not fallen so far."

"I don't need to kill you," said Rei, noticing now that a dagger had been driven into her ribs, through the fabric of her dress. "Someone already has."

The ghost howled in rage, snarling at him as if he had been the one to do it. "Foul human," she said. "I should never have trusted him. No, no, I shouldn't have. But it no longer matters. He had his reward, as will you."

" _There's no point talking to her, Rei,"_ said Ayame, her eyes narrowed as she floated in place, waiting for him to move.

"Yeah," Rei said. "I know."

He let out a shout as he charged forward, scythe blades poised to strike.

* * *

"Morgan!" Cassie yelled, quickly running over to her meister and kneeling down in front of her.

Morgan struggled with the hands still wrapped tightly around her throat, trying to pull them free even as her vision started to blur, the feeling starting to disappear from her fingertips. Cassie tugged at the hands as well, her eyes wide in panic, but it was no use. The hands held tight.

The weapon let out a cry of frustration, sliding back. She held her hands out in front of herself, pointing them at the hands.

" _And then the wind around the hands turned into blades,"_ she intoned. _"The blades sliced the hands to ribbons, but didn't harm Morgan."_

The wind suddenly picked up around her, surging inward and slipping past Morgan's fingers to cut through the hands holding her. Morgan gasped as the hands released and air suddenly flooded her throat, coughing and spluttering as she fell to the ground. She pushed herself up on her arms and retched, Cassie quickly coming up behind her to hold her hair out of her face.

"You're alright, Morgan," Cassie said. "You're alright."

Morgan took in several shaky breaths, her shoulders trembling. Cassie shifted her hands to Morgan's shoulders and, when she was relaxed, slowly drew her back up to her feet.

"Rei and Ayame?" Morgan said, when she finally found her voice. It was hoarse, and her throat still hurt from her ordeal.

"Gone," Cassie said. "They went through the wall."

Morgan turned, facing the wall that Rei, Ayame, and the ghost had disappeared through. It was solid again, dilapidated and in ill-repair but with no sign of the portal that they had gone through. She stared at it, feeling something unsettled deep within her, deeper than the boundaries she had erected around herself.

There was something…strange about that ghost.

"Morgan?" Cassie asked.

"We have to help them," Morgan said, stepping towards the wall. She held out her hand to her partner. "Cassie."

Cassie nodded, shifting quickly into weapon form. The familiar weight of the grimoire settled into the palm of her right hand, the book opening to a blank page. Morgan turned towards the wall, wracking her brain for the exact sequence of words that would unlock it, the words that would allow them to go through the wall and find their friends.

Before she could do that, the door to the room creaked open behind her.

" _Morgan,"_ Cassie warned from the light pink of her soul space.

Morgan turned her head, facing the door. A small creature was standing in it, running through the open door on small legs that rattled as it ran towards them. She tensed, holding out a hand towards it, but before she could speak a spell, the creature skidded to a stop in front of her, looking up at her.

It was a doll, the porcelain figure of a little girl, looking up at her with fearful eyes. She noticed that the porcelain was chipped and cracked, tatters in the doll's once beautiful dress,

"They're coming," it said. "Please help us. I don't want them to take us. Please help us."

Shadows burst into the room in the doll's wake, shooting straight for Morgan and Cassie.

* * *

Rei charged straight out of the shadows, Ayame's scythe blades pointed at the ghost of the witch. She smirked, floating out of the way on insubstantial legs, one hand extended towards him. A bolt of something ethereal shot out of her palm, slamming straight into the center of Ayame's chain. It passed through the chain and passed straight through Rei's torso, leaving no wound but instead a profound feeling that something was breaking.

Ayame screamed.

The bolt exited through his back, slamming into the wall and embedding itself there. As it did, the kusarigama in his hands shattered into shards of light, forming a nebulous cloud around him. He looked over his shoulder.

The bolt was embedded in the wall, something hanging from it, something in the shape of Ayame's kusarigama form, pinned to the wall by its chain.

He held out his hand and Ayame reformed in it, the shards of light gathering together and forming the short ninja sword. She was breathing heavily in her soul space, her arms spread out to either side of her as she glared at the witch. He closed his hand around her hilt and could feel her anger.

" _Rei,"_ Ayame said. _"I can't reach my kusarigama form…"_

The witch tilted her head, regarding Rei and Ayame with interest. "Oh," she said. "You have more than one form. I see. Could you possibly be the Dark Arm, little girl? The scion of the Nakatsukasa Clan? Well no matter." She spread her arms wide, the darkness around her coalescing into a living thing, thick shadows wrapping around her. "Come to me," she said. "Fight. I will seal off your weapon forms, one by one."

"Ayame," Rei said, reversing his grip on the ninja sword as he sank into a low stance.

" _Yeah,"_ Ayame said. _"I know. Not on her terms."_

Rei nodded. Charging the witch head on would be foolishness, especially when it was clear that she was ready for them.

Instead, he ran to the side, darting into the shadows of the stairwell to the right of the living room. He ran up the stairs into darkness, concealing himself in it as the witch turned to follow, letting out a shriek of anger.

"Trying to hide from me, boy?" she asked as she floated her way up the stairs, the house shaking with the force of her anger. "It won't work. I am the queen of these shadows!"

Rei leaped at her before she could reach the top of the stairs, the ninja sword pointed at her head.

She raised her hand before his attack could connect, another bolt forming in it as she pointed her hand at him. He grit his teeth, trying to change his direction, but it was too late. The bolt slammed into him and Ayame, throwing him back against the wall and through it as the creaking timbers splintered beneath the force of the blow. He felt the ninja sword leave him, the short dagger shattering and Ayame becoming formless light again.

He landed on the floor of the guest room, sliding back on the carpet. The back of his head struck something hard and he turned, his eyes widening as he realized what it was.

It was a doll, made out of porcelain and dressed in blue. A child's doll.

There were spirits in the guest room, he realized, sitting on the beds and watching him with sightless eyes. A boy and a girl. The girl couldn't have been older than eight, the boy no older than ten. They moved their heads to track his path as he sat up, but otherwise remained seated on top of the beds, unmoving.

Rei raised his hand to his mouth, wiping away a trickle of blood.

"I don't understand…" he said, looking from one child to another. He struggled to his feet.

That was when he noticed the bolts holding each child in place, pinning them to the bed. The same sort of bolts that had sealed away Ayame's weapon forms.

He understood then, anger flooding him. Ayame seemed to feel it too, because he held out his hand and she transformed without a word, becoming a katana.

The witch appeared in the doorway to the guest room, floating there. She watched him from beneath shadowed eyes, her lips curved into a smirk.

"You killed them," Rei said, feeling anger run through him. "You killed these children."

"I _erased_ them," said the witch, sounding proud. _"_ Erased their very existence! I made the world forget they had ever lived."

Rei snarled, letting out a shout of anger. He charged forward, Ayame's katana form gripped in both hands as he pointed it at the witch.

* * *

" _Ventus!"_ Morgan intoned, the grimoire in one hand as she held out her other. _"Ventus, clipeum, venti!"_

The wind howled, rushing around Morgan, Cassie, and the doll as it rushed to follow one of the verbal shortcuts that Morgan had established with Cassie. The grimoire usually required a lot of words to have any sort of effect, but the shortcuts had been a way to get around that, to compress meaning into a handful of meaningless syllables. The shadows struck the wind shield and the doll whimpered, clinging tightly to Morgan's legs. Something howled as the tendrils of shadow slammed ineffectually into the dome of wind, something from deep within the veil of darkness.

" _Something's there, Morgan,"_ Cassie said. _"Something big."_

"I know," said Morgan. To the doll, she said, "Stay behind me," stepping forward and towards the inner limit of her shield. She stopped for a minute to think, letting the tendrils hammer away at her dome. Once she spoke another invocation, the dome would disappear, leaving her momentarily defenseless. She had to make it a good one.

" _The room burst into light,"_ she said, _"eliminating all the shadows and revealing the form of the enemy."_

The words scribed themselves into the grimoire in an ornate hand, light flaring up just as she had commanded it. The light, as brilliantly bright as the shadows earlier had been deep and dark, hurt her eyes, and she blinked tears out of them as she tried to focus on the enemy. With the shadows gone, its form was clear, a vaguely humanoid creature crouched on the ground, its body made of dense shadows. Despite its vaguely human appearance, there was nothing human about it at all. Instead, there was something feral, animal-like about its presence.

"The familiar," Morgan said, understanding. If the ghost had been the ghost of the witch, it only stood to reason that her familiar would have followed her.

" _Be careful, Morgan,_ " Cassie warned, her expression grave.

"I know," said Morgan.

"It's going to get us," the doll wailed, its voice the voice of a child. "It's going to make us disappear…"

"No one's going to make you disappear," Morgan said, stepping forward. "Not while I'm here."

The familiar snarled, charging at Morgan. She raised her hand, pointing her palm upwards at the ceiling. _"The light took on a solid form and rained down, forming a cage that bound the creature."_

The light shot down from above, coalescing and forming liquid bolts as it slammed into place around the familiar. The creature thrashed from within its cage, running its clawed hands across the bars and spinning as it tried to break free. She heard Cassie let out a yelp of pain as the creature's claws slammed into the bars, felt her partner strain to hold it there.

" _Morgan, hurry!"_ Cassie said, her eyes widening in desperation. Morgan could hear the strain in her voice. _"I can't hold it for long!"_

Morgan stared at the creature, her mind racing as she tried to think through her options. The doll was pressed close to the back of her legs, shivering in terror. The creature was thrashing in the cage, threatening to break it. It slammed against one wall and light splintered, Cassie letting out a scream of pain as a crack appeared in the light. Her partner hugged herself tight as her soul space shook around her, blood appearing from a cut on her forearm.

Morgan felt panic rise up within her. She didn't know what to do, knew that if she tried anything, she had to make sure it purified the familiar in one strike. Otherwise the cage would disappear and the familiar would tear her apart. But if she didn't do anything, the familiar would break through the cage and tear them apart anyway.

It would tear _Cassie_ apart.

" _Morgan!"_ Cassie cried.

Her free hand clenched into a fist, trembling as she stared the familiar down. She had to do something, but what? She didn't know what to do.

And then suddenly she did.

She inhaled deeply, calm settling over her as the weight of her decision dropped down onto her shoulders. She unclenched her fist, opening her hand again and pointing her open palm at the creature in the cage. Power flooded through her, just a trickle. It poured through her, seeping into her skin, veins, and blood, and bringing with it the sweetest euphoria.

" _Corvus!"_ she intoned, her eyes flashing as she held her hand out towards the creature. _"Corvus, fata, fata morgana._ Cassie! _Ignis_! Now!"

Fire blossomed from her hand, shooting straight at the creature as the cage crumbled. Around Morgan, the shadows coalesced, forming the outlines of dark wings.

* * *

The witch extended her hand as Rei charged at her, a bolt of shadow forming in it. This time, Rei was ready. He dodged to the side, continuing to run at her as he dropped his sword, preparing for a rising cut. Power thrummed in the air as he ran towards the witch and the witch turned to meet him, muddying his senses. Witch's power, and a lot of it. It flooded the air, making it hard to breathe.

He charged through it anyway, letting out a shout of rage as he swung Ayame's sword upward, the rising cut that Mifune had taught him.

The witch simply slid out of the way, sliding back into the hallway as his cut passed harmlessly through the air.

"How little you understand," she said, laughing. "What a child you are."

A bolt passed through him again, this time without any force. Ayame's katana form shattered, the blade appearing pinned to the wall where the bolt held it. Still Rei charged forward at the witch, holding his hand out to the nebulous light that was Ayame.

"Shuriken Mode!" he said.

Ayame nodded, light coalescing until it formed that dark star. He ran at the witch as the witch raised her hand, bringing the great star-shaped blade over his head and slamming it down at her. Before she could form a bolt, he dropped down, moving so that both he and the shuriken were below her upraised hand as he charged at her.

The witch simply waved her other hand, shadows latching onto him. They wrapped tightly around his middle, picking him up and throwing him through the open door and into the master bedroom. He crashed into the wall, slamming into something made of glass that shattered with the impact. Glass dug into his back and shoulders and Rei let out a cry of pain, sliding off the wall and onto the floor.

" _Rei!"_ Ayame shouted.

"I'm fine," Rei said with a groan, struggling to sit up. He turned his head, trying to see what he had crashed into.

It was a framed picture, now hanging lopsided on the wall behind him. The glass of the frame was broken, but the picture beneath it was fine, the image showing as clear as day even in the darkness of the room. It showed a woman, the witch, dressed in a wedding dress, a man at her side in a suit. Both of them were smiling, but there was a darkness in the woman that the picture seemed to grasp, a darkness that went unnoticed both by the man and the children standing on either side of them, the boy and the girl he had seen in the guest room earlier.

He straightened up, trying to push himself to his feet as the witch floated into the room. He barely noticed the bolt as it slammed through him, pinning Ayame's shuriken form to the wall and causing Ayame shatter into light, a cloud of light floating around him again. His eyes moved from the witch to the bloodstain on the bed, understanding now. The children, the bloodstain, the dagger in the ghost's side, the way she had spoken about a man.

"You killed his children," he said, his voice low and soft. "And he killed you…"

"He loved those wretched brats more than me," the witch said, holding out her hand towards Rei. "That could never be allowed. So I erased them! Erased them from everyone's memory, including his."

"But you didn't," said Rei. "You couldn't erase them fully. He remembered, didn't he? And then he killed you."

"He killed me," the witch admitted. "But he was too much of a fool to realize what he had done. Who I was."

"So he killed you," Rei said, still not looking up. "And then because he couldn't see your soul, he left it here. Left it to haunt this place."

"He betrayed me!" the witch shrieked. "He. Betrayed _. Me_!"

"He betrayed you," said Rei, his eyes shadowed by his hair. He straightened up, extending his hand to his side. "That's a laugh. Ayame."

" _Rei,"_ Ayame said from within her soul space, looking uncertain. _"We don't have anything left. All we have is—."_

"I don't care!" said Rei, looking up. His eyes narrowed at the witch, his hand still extended towards Ayame. "I don't care! He trusted you, and _you_ betrayed _him_. People that betray other people's trust…those are the type of people I hate the most!"

" _Rei, we can't,"_ said Ayame. _"We can't use that. I can't—."_

"Don't worry, Ayame," said Rei, interrupting her. "I'll help you. Trust me."

" _I—."_ Ayame hesitated, then nodded, her eyes narrowing as she sank down into a fighting pose. _"Understood!"_

He charged forward, light swirling around him.

The witch laughed, extending her hand towards him. A bolt of shadow appeared in her palm, flying at him.

"Smoke Bomb!" Rei yelled. "Now!"

Ayame nodded, the light flaring as she transformed into her smoke bomb form. There was an explosion and then mist flooded the space where Rei and Ayame had been, hiding them from view.

Rei exploded out of the fog, charging at the witch from her left. The witch slid back, her eyes narrowing as she fired a bolt of shadow at him. The bolt struck him dead-on, but instead of anything happening to him, he froze, shattering into a million pieces of light. The witch's eyes widened as Rei appeared out of the shadows behind her, his feet braced against the wall. The light from the broken shadow dummy wrapped around him, hanging around him in a cloud as he charged at her.

The witch smirked, turning her head to face him, and in an instant he was back in Mifune's class again, watching Morgan as she turned towards him, seeing the smirk on her face that told him that he had lost.

But it was different now. He wasn't going to lose this time. His eyes narrowed.

"Ayame!" he said. "Cloak of Shadows Mode!"

The light wrapped tight around him, forming the dark cloak that rested over his shoulders. Before her form could shift and fade, before she could lose control of it, he opened his soul up to her, his soul brushing against hers. She replied, letting out a loud yell as tendrils reached out from her soul, touching his.

" _Soul—,"_ he yelled, Ayame following him.

"— _Resonance!"_ she finished.

The cloak burst into light, the iridescent colors replacing the original black of the fabric as the power of their Soul Resonance rippled through them. He could feel the strain the Cloak of Shadows form placed on Ayame, felt his own soul reaching out to bolster it, supporting her. Ribbons of iridescent light burst out of the cloak in all directions, each one tipped with a single glowing blade.

" _Shadow Rain!"_ Rei and Ayame yelled at the same time, the ribbons crisscrossing until they filled the entire room.

The ribbons banked and shifted direction, eight of them shooting towards the witch from all sides. The blades tore into her and she screamed, disappearing in a flash of bright light. The light tore through the space around them, shredding the darkness to pieces and ripping the illusory house apart. When the light cleared, Rei found himself in the real master bedroom again, hovering in the air in front of Morgan and Cassie.

He landed softly on his feet, the light around him fading. There was a flash and then Ayame reappeared beside him, rocking back on her heels. She looked down at herself, examining her arms as if she was surprised at her own form.

"They're back," she said, at Rei's questioning glance. "All my weapons."

"Good," said Rei, drawing in a shaky breath. "It looks like we won."

"Yeah," said Ayame, smiling breathlessly at him. And then, before he could react, she leaped forward, throwing her arms around his head. "We did it!" she yelled, "We won!"

Rei tensed, his eyes widening as she tightened her hold. "A—yame," he groaned. "Can't—breathe!"

"Oh, sorry," said Ayame, releasing him and stepping back. He rubbed at his neck, turning towards Morgan and Cassie. The two of them were seated on the floor, both looking exhausted. There was something in Morgan's hand, a cracked porcelain doll that tilted its head up at them, eyeing them with fearful eyes.

"Morgan?" Rei asked, his eyes moving from her to the doll. "What's that…?" There was something moving inside of it. A soul, he thought, activating his Soul Perception.

No. Two.

Morgan looked away. Cassie answered for her, raising her head.

"We think it's the souls of the children who were killed here," she said. "The witch's familiar tried to eat them, but we defeated it."

Rei stepped forward, looking down at the doll. It buried its head into Morgan's blouse, not looking at him.

"What do we do with them?" Rei asked.

"They need to pass on," Cassie said, solemnly. "But they don't want to go. They're scared."

He drew in a breath, feeling a wave of cold pass over him as he looked down at the doll. Rei crouched down in front of it, extending a hesitant hand towards it. The doll shook its head, turning back towards Morgan.

"Don't be scared," Rei said. "It'll be okay."

"We don't wanna go," the doll said. "We wanna stay here. We wanna wait for Papa."

"Your papa…" Rei began. He felt his throat close up and he swallowed, trying to clear it. "Your papa isn't here anymore. I think he'd want you to be at peace. Both of you…"

The doll looked up at him, and even though its face was porcelain, Rei imagined he saw tears in its eyes. "It's not going to hurt?" it asked.

"No," said Rei, holding out his hand. "I promise."

The doll reached out as well, its hand touching Rei's. The moment it did, it crumbled, the porcelain falling away and revealing the two souls within it, bound tightly to each other. Cassie let out a breath of air as Morgan slowly drew her hands back, letting the souls drift away. They floated upwards, towards the ceiling, still intertwined with each other before disappearing from sight.

Rei let out the breath he was holding, blinking moisture out of his eyes. He stood up, dusting his hands off of his pants and looking back at Morgan and Cassie. "Are you two okay?" he asked.

"Yes," said Morgan, speaking the first words he had heard her speak since returning. "We're fine. You two?"

"Fine," said Rei. He took a step back, taking in the room. It was quiet now that the ghost was gone, a stillness settling over the place that hadn't been there before.

Ayame tugged at his sleeve. "Rei," she said, drawing his attention. "Look."

Rei turned. A soul was hovering in the room, pulsing with a deep pink light. The Witch's Soul.

"Is that it?" Cassie asked. "The soul?"

"Yeah," said Rei.

"Once we get this, we'll be done with the mission," said Ayame.

Rei nodded. "Yeah," he said. "That's right."

"What are you waiting for, Rei?" asked Morgan, not making a move to get up. "You defeated the ghost. It's yours. Take it."

He drew in a breath, turning to face the soul. Then he reached out, letting out that breath all at once as he extended his hand towards it.

"Soul Retrieval complete."

* * *

"I can't believe we have to give it away," said Ayame later that day, as she and Rei walked down the long, guillotine-lined path to the Death Room. Rei walked beside her, the Witch's Soul cradled carefully in his hands. It felt insubstantial, almost like holding air, and yet it held a weight to it that he couldn't quite describe, and a power he didn't need Soul Perception to sense. He sighed.

"You know the rules, Ayame," he said. "It's part of the accords."

"I know, I know," said Ayame, her hands laced together behind her neck. "But come on. We worked hard for that one."

"At least we won," said Rei, giving her a sidelong glance. "It'll go on our record. We beat the remnant of a witch. And we figured out a new attack, so it's not a total loss."

Ayame said nothing, her eyes drawn to the ceiling. Rei sighed again, turning his attention to the path ahead. He stopped suddenly, feeling a wave of awareness crash over him that made him freeze in place. Ayame stopped walking as well, arching an eyebrow at him.

"Rei?" she asked, concerned.

"There's a witch in there," Rei said, inclining his head towards the Death Room.

Ayame's frown deepened, but she said nothing, walking with him into the spacious, open room.

Shinigami-sama stood in front of his desk, waiting on the white platform beneath the Death Room's artificial blue sky. On one side of him stood Rei's father, Soul, watching the two of them with a frown on his face that didn't give anything away. On the shinigami's other side stood two women.

One of them he thought he recognized from his childhood, although she was nearly eight years older them him. She wore a white jacket and traveling clothes, her white hair tied loosely into a braid behind her head. Her eyes, behind a pair of glasses, were gold.

The other one was the source of the soul he had sensed while walking towards the Death Room. She wore a deep green dress, one that ended just above her knee, and wore a hat in the shape of a chameleon on the top of her head. Her hair was long and brown, falling past her shoulders. Her eyes were a pinkish red. She turned towards him as he stared at her, gloved hands at her side as she offered him a bright smile.

"Ah, there you are, Rei, Ayame," said Shinigami, drawing Rei's attention back to him. The man his parents still called Kid was dressed in his signature symmetrical outfit, his gold eyes falling on the soul in Rei's hand. "I see you've brought it back. Good. Morgan and Cassie aren't with you?"

Rei shook his head. "Cassie was feeling sick. Something from the house," he said. "Morgan took her to the dispensary."

"I see," said Shinigami. "Well, let me introduce to you Angela Leon, spear meister and Deputy Ambassador to the Witch Assembly. Hand the soul over to her, if you will."

"Thank you for your hard work," said Angela, extending her hands. Rei hesitated for only a moment before holding the soul out to her, letting it float between his hands and hers until she was cradling it carefully.

"Yeah," he said, "No problem."

"We'll take it from here," Angela promised, looking back over her shoulder. "Shelley?"

The other woman, Shelley, nodded, following Angela out of the room. Rei waited until their footsteps had faded away before turning back to Shinigami and his father.

"I didn't know we had an ambassador to the witches," he said.

"Two," Soul said, his hands in his pockets. "Angela's only a deputy." He looked at Rei, his expression softening slightly. He offered him a smile. "You're doing alright, Rei?"

"Yeah," said Rei. "I'm fine. A little shaken up, but fine."

"Good," said Soul. "Your mom was worried, you know."

Rei smiled back, lowering his eyes so that Soul couldn't see the sudden wave of relief that washed over him about being home.

"She usually is," he said.

* * *

"There it goes," Ayame said a little later on, watching from the balcony as Angela and Shelley left the DWMA grounds, the Witch's Soul encased in a box that the young witch held close to herself. Morgan and Cassie stood beside Rei and Ayame, the weapon seeming to have recovered from her earlier dizzy spell. They watched the procession solemnly as well, Cassie resting her elbows on the balcony. "My easy ticket to Death Scythe-dom."

"Are you really upset?" asked Rei, glancing at her.

Ayame flashed him a grin. "Nah," she said. "I don't need a Witch's Soul to be awesome. I already am."

She pushed herself backwards away from the railing, falling into step beside Rei as the four of them turned to leave. They stepped back into the shadows of the school, walking down the empty halls and towards the stairs that led to the exit.

"Besides," Ayame said. "It was kinda iffy how we just used to hunt witches like Angela for their souls. I mean, they're people too, right?"

"They're evil though," said Rei, "or at least most of them are. They can't help it. It's the Pull of Magic. Witches that don't feel it, like Angela, are really rare."

Morgan drew ahead suddenly, walking past him. Rei frowned, slowing down and watching as she made her way down the steps.

"Morgan?" he asked, "Is something wrong?"

"I'm tired," she said, "I'm going to bed."

Cassie blinked, watching as Morgan walked away. "Morgan?" she asked, hurrying down the stairs to catch up with her. "Morgan sweetie, wait up. I'm coming with."

Rei and Ayame watched as Cassie and Morgan disappeared around the corner, their footsteps fading away. They glanced at each other.

"Sleep sounds great, actually," said Ayame, raising her arms over her head and stretching. She stifled a yawn. "I'm really tired. Catch some z's before Vayne and Clark get back?"

"Yeah," said Rei, nodding. "Sounds good to me."

The two of them turned, walking as one down the stairs and out of the school, towards their apartment. Towards home.

* * *

**Omake**

_Rei and Ayame's Apartment_

"And then," Cassie said, spreading her arms dramatically, "The room changed, and the lights went dim, and the bed was soaked in blood."

"Noooooo," Vayne squealed from where he was cowering behind the couch, his hands pressed tightly over his ears. "Make it stoooopppp!"

Clark shot him a glance from where he was seated on the couch, listening to Cassie tell her story. Morgan, Rei, and Ayame had taken various seats around the room as well, packets of Japanese treats spread out on the low table in front of them from Clark and Vayne's mission. "Go on, Cassie," he said, offering her a smile.

"And then," Cassie continued, "There was a loud howling sound, and a rush of wind. The house began to groan and creak."

"La la la la la, I can't hear you!" said Vayne, drawing his knees up close to his chest.

"Vayne, come on," said Ayame. "You lived in Shinigami-sama's _house_."

"It's not the same," Vayne moaned.

Clark continued listening calmly, motioning for Cassie to go on.

"The room fell into disrepair. The windows cracked. Spiderwebs appeared on the walls."

"Why is it always spiders?" Vayne asked, beginning to rock slowly.

Cassie took a deep breath, her expression growing grave. Ayame, Rei, and Clark leaned forward almost unconsciously, listening to her words.

"And then, suddenly…" she said, "there was no cell signal…"

Clark let out a high-pitched squeal of terror, vanishing behind the couch to curl up next to Vayne. Vayne paused in his rocking to glance at his partner, uncovering his hands from around his ears.

"Seriously?" he asked, flatly.

"No cell signal," Clark muttered to himself, his face pale. He hugged his knees close to his chest, rocking back and forth. "No cellphone service, no internet, no Deathbook, no video chat…"

"And people said I had problems," said Vayne.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rei and Ayame's Soul Resonance theme is The One Star from The World Ends With You. All of Rei and Ayame's themes are from that game, but none of the others are.


	8. Call to Arms; The Death Festival Tournament?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the anime/manga, the DWMA's Death Festival is only a battle tournament that the E.A.T. class can participate in, however a little over 20 years has passed since the time of the anime and the DWMA has undergone a change of leadership in the meantime, so I'm taking some artistic liberties and writing it as something closer to a traditional school festival (keeping the battle tournament, of course).

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

**Call to Arms; The Death Festival Tournament?**

* * *

Angela Leon, chameleon witch and DWMA meister, walked into her apartment with a loud sigh, tossing her hat onto an arm chair and flopping backwards onto the couch. A large green lizard poked its head out from behind the nearest couch cushion and she giggled softly, reaching out and running a finger down its back as it nuzzled her cheek.

"Hey, Pascal," she said. "Did you miss me?"

Shelley Stein watched her out of the corner of her eye, hanging up her DWMA jacket. Visits to the Witch Assembly always put her meister in a strange mood. Shelley wouldn't claim to know Angela the best—that honor went to her former bodyguard and surrogate father Mifune—but she thought she came pretty close. She let Angela play with her familiar for a moment, the young witch teasing the chameleon by waving her finger around in front of its face, and stepped into the kitchen to start a cup of tea. Proper tea, not the tea that her mother always claimed to make but that somehow always ended up becoming coffee. She set the kettle on the stove, then stepped back into the living room.

Angela had stopped playing with Pascal, the chameleon resting on the sofa cushion behind her head as she stared up at the apartment ceiling. Shelley perched on the arm of the armchair nearest her, being careful not to sit on her partner's hat by accident. Her mother would know exactly what to say, but Shelley wasn't Marie Mjolnir, not by any stretch of imagination. So she waited instead for Angela to speak. The kettle whistled before she did and Shelley got up, fixing two mugs of tea and setting one on the coffee table for Angela before taking her own back to her perch.

"Did you feel anything weird at the DWMA?" Angela asked after a while. She didn't reach for her tea.

"Not more than usual," Shelley said, taking a sip of her own drink. "Why?"

"No reason," said Angela, shaking her head. "I just…can't help but feel like I'm missing something. Do you remember what Nerissa said, at the Witch Assembly?"

Shelley nodded. The sea witch had mentioned it to Angela while Shelley was standing several feet away, reporting back to the DWMA. The witch clearly hadn't thought that Shelley would be listening in, but she had better ears than most people gave her credit for. "Something about the Morrigan," Shelley said, "How no one's heard from her in a long time."

"She withdrew from the witch world after her daughter's death," Angela said. "She believes her daughter was killed by the DWMA. Of course, I was still a kid when it happened, and as usual, no one wants to tell me anything."

"It's only natural for them to be suspicious," said Shelley, adjusting her glasses. "It's only been twenty-one years since the accords were put into place, and you were raised at the DWMA."

"I know that," said Angela. "But I still think I'm missing _something_. Something to do with the DWMA and the Witch Assembly."

"Well," Shelley amended, taking a sip of her tea. "There were a lot more ravens than there should have been in town today."

Angela stared up at the ceiling, frowning in thought.

"Ravens, huh…?"

* * *

Rei slid into his seat beside Vayne a few moments before the bell rang, Ayame dropping into her seat next to him. Vayne looked up from where he was leaning back in his seat, his feet propped up on the desk, and gave them a slow smile.

"Nearly missed the bell again," he said. "You know, school starts at the same time everyday."

"Shut it," Rei said. "I don't want to hear it."

"What's keeping you in the mornings anyway?" Vayne asked, sitting up and sliding his feet off the desk. "You're usually pretty on top of things."

Rei's frown deepened, his mind going back to the events of this morning.

" _Ayame?!" Rei called, walking up and down the apartment with a mug of coffee in his hand. "Ayame, where are you?! We have to go or we're going to be late! Ayame?"_

" _Here!" he heard Ayame shout from outside one of the second floor windows._

_Rei blinked, leaning out the window with his coffee in his hand. Ayame was clinging to the side of their apartment building, her fingers gripping the windowsill as her feet found purchase some of the embellishments on the side of the building._

" _What are you doing?" Rei asked, frowning at her._

" _Training," said Ayame, flashing him a bright grin. "You know your grandfather just left Chupa Cabra?"_

" _I really did not need to know that," Rei said. He took a half-step away from the window. "Come on up. We really need to get going."_

" _Roger!" Ayame said brightly, hoisting her legs up so that they were under herself and springing in through the window. Into Rei. Into his coffee cup._

_Rei let out a shout as he found himself falling backward, the coffee splashing right onto the front of his uniform jacket. He yelped._

" _Ayame!" he said as he landed on the floor._

" _Whoops, I'm sorry!" said Ayame, rushing to help him up. "Here, I got you."_

" _No—," Rei said, struggling to find purchase on the now coffee-slick floor. "Ayame, just—."_

_He jerked away from her as she reached for him, the motion making her lose her balance and fall forward, landing in the slowly spreading coffee stain. Ayame sprang up, eyes wide, and glanced down at the front of her shirt._

" _Ah! It's on me!"_

" _I told you not to—." Rei sighed. "—Here, just help me clean this up."_

" _I'll grab the paper towels, you grab fresh clothes?"_

" _Got it," said Rei, already springing up and running, first to his room then to hers. "Just hurry! We're gonna be late—!"_

"I really don't want to talk about it," said Rei, letting out a breath.

Beside him, Ayame laughed nervously, twiddling her fingers together. Maka stepped through the door to the classroom a few moments later, and all conversation ground to a halt.

"I have the results from your extracurricular assignments," she said. "It looks like most of you did well _,_ with a few minor difficulties. I'm very proud of all of you. You acted as real representatives of the DWMA, and I'd like to encourage you to keep up the good work." She smiled, her eyes lingering a little longer on Rei and his friends as she looked around the room.

"Today's homeroom will be a little different," Maka said, setting her gradebook aside. "As many of you know, the Death Festival is coming up soon. For those of you who don't know, the Death Festival is an annual tradition at the DWMA, occurring every year on Halloween. The highlight of the Death Festival is of course the Battle Tournament, which is open to all E.A.T. students at the DWMA. You aren't required to sign up for the tournament, but if you do want to, tournament sign-up sheets will be posted on the mission board. If you are _not_ doing the tournament, you'll be helping your class with the class booth. Both E.A.T. and N.O.T. students will be putting together activities for students and other guests to participate in outside of the tournament matches. The DWMA will be open to the public for the Death Festival and classes will not be held, so of course, if any of you want to invite your families, they'd be very welcome to attend."

Maybe it was just Rei's imagination, but Maka's eyes lingered a little long on Ayame before she continued speaking.

"So, with that in mind," she said, "I'm going to turn it over to your class representative, so that you can start coming up with ideas for your booth. Clark?"

Clark stood up as Maka nodded at him, making his way down to the front of the room with a clipboard in his hand.

"How come four-eyes gets to be class rep?" Ayame grumbled from beside him.

"Because he won the vote," Rei said, keeping his voice to a whisper. "That's how democracy works."

"Hmph," Ayame said. "I still think I would have done a better job." But she quieted down and listened anyway, waiting for Clark to speak.

"Watch," Vayne said from beside Rei. "He's so going to go for a maid café."

Clark adjusted his glasses as he reached the front of the room, glancing down at the clipboard before looking up at the assembled students. He cleared his throat.

"Good morning," Clark said. "I've been hearing a few suggestions from some of you over the past few days, and there seems to be a large variety of ideas. Here's what I've been thinking, as a way to use most of these. Just a few days ago, some of my friends had an interesting time investigating a haunted house. I was thinking that, since the Death Festival is on Halloween, we could put together our own haunted house, with some of your ideas for the rooms."

Vayne paled. "Clark, how could you?" he said, but the outburst was drowned out by the murmurs of agreement in the front row. Excited whispers rose up from around the room, a few people turning around in their seats to talk excitedly with their friends.

"Can we be in costume?" someone asked Clark.

"We can absolutely be in costume," said Clark, writing 'costumes' down on the board under the heading 'Haunted House'. "I was thinking we could divide into teams, and have each team be in charge of a specific room.

"Can one of the rooms be a haunted laboratory?" one of the boys in front asked. "Jonas and I did a pretty creepy lab for our mission."

"Gav and I can take that one!" Jonas, a small boy in the front of the room said. "I've got an idea!"

"Alright," said Clark. "Jonas and Gavril, haunted lab. Anyone else?"

"Zombies!" someone shouted from the back of the room. "There has to be zombies!"

"Unfortunately, Sid-sensei doesn't approve of the racial stereotyping of zombies," said Clark. "I'm going to have to say no. But we can have vampires instead."

"Can we have a witch?" someone asked. "There absolutely _has_ to be a witch."

"We can have a witch room," said Clark. "As long as we make clear that it's an _evil_ witch."

"Ooh, ooh, demon warrior!" said Ayame, raising her hand. "There absolutely has to be a demon warrior!"

"Demon warrior, got it," said Clark, writing it on the board under 'witch'. "Anything else?"

"You said we were gonna do a maid café!" Vayne yelled in protest.

"Haunted maid café. Great idea, Vayne!" said Clark, grinning. "We can have it be the waiting room."

"Can we get the dojo for this?" a girl asked from near the front of the classroom. "It would be really cool. We could put up paneling to divide it into rooms. My family does theater, so I'm all over set design."

"Alright, Ophelia, set design," said Clark, writing that down. "Who wants to ask Mifune-sensei if we can use the dojo?"

"I'll take care of it!" said Cassie, raising her hand. "Mifune-sensei likes me."

"Okay, Cassie, Mifune duty," said Clark, writing that down. "Can I also put you in charge of ambiance?"

"One super scary haunted house coming up!" said Cassie, giving him two thumbs up.

Vayne let out a groan, slumping forward over the desk. Rei patted him on the shoulder as around and over them, people started shouting out ideas for rooms and creatures and volunteering for tasks. From the row behind them, Morgan ignored the commotion, continuing to write in her book.

* * *

It took Maka a full ten minutes to restore order to the classroom after the bell rang and she stepped up to take over for Soul Studies class, and even after class, planning for the haunted house went on. Rei heard Jonas and Gavril whispering about borrowing some things from Professor Stein's lab for the haunted laboratory and hoped for their sake that they weren't actually serious. It wasn't his place to stop them, though, so he let them go.

He told himself it wasn't just because he was curious to see what would happen.

It wasn't just their class. As soon as he stepped out into the hallway, he realized that the excitement was school-wide, E.A.T. and N.O.T. students alike talking about the festival and whether their parents would be able to make it and what their class would be doing and so forth.

And of course, everyone was talking about the tournament.

He and Ayame rounded the corner on their way to the cafeteria, passing by yet another group of N.O.T. students speculating on who would win this year. Ayame walked past them nonchalantly, but Rei saw the interest in her eyes, the way they moved to track their movements before looking back at the path ahead of her.

He knew what she was going to say before she did.

"I kinda want to enter the tournament," she said, as they neared the gaggle of students surrounding the mission board.

"Yeah?" Rei asked, glancing at her.

"Yeah," said Ayame, lowering her hands to her side from where they were clasped behind her neck. "My parents won it their first year, you know. And all the other years after that. They only missed out on their second year because the tournament was interrupted by some witch."

Rei thought about it for a moment. He still wasn't confident about fighting, but the tournament meant a lot to Ayame. Still, this wouldn't be anything like the spars in Mifune's class. There would be upperclassmen fighting, E.A.T. students who had more experience than the two of them.

Ayame didn't push him, but the look in her eye told him she really wanted this.

"You think we have a chance?" he asked.

"I think we've got more than a chance," said Ayame. "You've gotten a lot stronger, Rei. And we did awesome taking back that Witch Soul. People are still talking about it."

Uncertainty and nervousness coiled in the pit of his stomach. But Ayame wanted this.

Rei took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. Ayame had been more than patient with him. Now it was his turn to stop holding her back.

"Alright," he said.

She blinked in surprise. "Alright?" she asked.

"If you want to enter, we should enter," Rei said. He offered her a smile. "If you think we have a chance, that is."

Ayame beamed at him, and it was enough to make him forget why he was so nervous about this in the first place. "Yes!" she said, jumping up in excitement. "We're going to be awesome!"

Rei shook his head at her, still smiling, and shouldered his way through the crowd to get to the sign-up sheet. As soon as he reached it, he hesitated, looking down at the names written on the clipboard pinned to the mission board. There were a lot of them, and almost all of them were from the older E.A.T. classes. Hardly any were from Class Moonless Night.

He'd expected this, but it was the last entry that gave him pause, the one right above the blank space where he had been about to put down his and Ayame's names.

_**Grayson Knight & Richard Sturm** _

"Rei?" Ayame asked, sidling up next to him. Her smile faltered when she realized what he was looking at, and her hand landed on his arm.

"We don't have to," she said. "If you're not ready."

Grayson and Richard. Their faces flashed through his mind again and he felt his knees lock up, his stomach turning to water the way it had when they confronted him in the hallway. He almost lowered the pen, but then he remembered the look on Ayame's face.

"No," he said. "No. We're doing this."

"You're sure?" Ayame asked.

"I'm sure," Rei said. "It's time."

Before he could change his mind, he swept the pen across the page, writing their names down quickly.

_**Rei Evans & Ayame Star** _

He dropped the pen, letting it hang next to the clipboard as he turned to face her. She stared at him, looking at him first in surprise, but then the surprise began to fade and she nodded at him, her eyes narrowing in determination. She slipped her hand down from his arm to his wrist, tightening her grip.

"We're going to win this, Rei," she said. "We can do it. You and me."

Rei nodded solemnly, meeting her eyes. "Yeah," he said, "We can."

"And," Ayame added, giving him a grin that was a touch shy of savage, "while we're at it, I'm going to help you beat those bullies straight into the dust."

* * *

" _I'm really sorry, Ayame-chan,"_ Tsubaki said from the earpiece of Ayame's phone. _"We really wanted to come back and see you fight in the tournament, but it looks like things here are more complicated than we thought. One second—."_ Her voice became muffled, as though she had put her hand over the mouthpiece and was now leaning away. _"—Bright Star, don't climb the bookcases, sweetie—anyway, Ayame-chan, we really are very sorry, but we'll see you before Christmas, alright?"_

"Yeah, it's fine," said Ayame, from her seat on one of the large boxes that had been piled into the dojo. Rei shot her a look at the tone of her voice, but she waved him off impatiently, going back to her conversation. "I get it. Things are busy."

" _I'm sorry again, Ayame-chan,"_ Tsubaki said, sounding genuinely sad. _"I'm glad to hear that you're doing well though. We're very proud of you."_

"Thanks," Ayame said. "And don't worry about it, Mom. I know how it is."

" _Maka-chan says she'll record all of your fights,"_ Tsubaki said. _"And your father says to do your best."_

" _That's not what I said!"_ said Black Star from the background. _"I said to tell her to kick all their punk asses!"_

" _Black Star—,"_ Tsubaki began, covering the phone again.

Ayame smiled in spite of herself. "Tell Dad they won't know what hit them," she said.

" _I'll tell him,"_ Tsubaki promised, sounding like she was smiling as well. _"Ayame-chan, you take care of yourself, alright? Tell Rei-kun that I said hi."_

"I will," Ayame promised, glancing at Rei. "See you soon, Mom."

" _See you soon,"_ Tsubaki echoed.

Ayame hung up, slipping her phone into the back pocket of her shorts. She looked up at Rei.

"Well?" Rei asked.

"My parents can't come," Ayame said. "Too busy. Mom says hi though."

Rei frowned at her. "Are you alright with that?" he asked.

"Yeah," Ayame said, sighing. "I mean, I'm a little bummed, but it was always a long shot. We're just gonna have to be brilliant without them."

She stretched, then rocked backwards and leaped to her feet, placing a hand on Rei's shoulder.

"Come on," she said. "Let's get to making a scary haunted house."

In the days since the haunted house idea had first been conceived, the dojo had been transformed, drop cloth lining the polished wooden floors as entire areas began to get sectioned off into separate rooms. Being entrants in the tournament meant that Rei and Ayame were technically exempt from helping with the class's preparations, but since Clark and Vayne were doing a lot of the work and since they had some time on their hands and not much else to do, they still came over and helped out when they could anyway.

She followed Rei over to where Vayne and Morgan were painting set pieces, Cassie humming from where she was seated over them on a box, her headphones on. She had her laptop on her lap and was typing away at something Ayame couldn't see. Vayne had a decidedly unhappy look on his face as he and Morgan got to work, transforming a large board into a foreboding stone wall.

"Stupid Clark," Vayne muttered under his breath. "Stupid haunted house."

"Aw, come on, Vayne, it can't be that bad," said Ayame with a grin, dropping down into a crouch next to him. "Come on. Hand me a paintbrush."

"You missed a spot," Morgan said, pointing at something next to Vayne's paintbrush.

"Yeah, yeah," Vayne muttered, dipping his brush in gray paint and running it over the spot that Morgan had noted. "Should have just done the stupid tourney."

"No, you shouldn't have," said Ayame, grinning as she flopped down into a seated position on the floor. "I'm entering, remember. I'd really hate to have to kick your face in."

"Not in the mood, Ayame," Vayne said with a scowl, dipping his brush back into the gray paint and painting with a fury. "Besides, it would be Clark's stupid face. Serves him right. Stupid Clark."

"Come on, man, you know more insults than that," said Rei, settling down next to Morgan. He reached for a fresh section of paneling, moving it to the side so that he and Ayame could paint.

"I do," Vayne said, still muttering angrily under his breath. "But Mifune-sensei doesn't like it when we use those words in the dojo."

"Yikes, someone's pissed," said Ayame with a grin. "Besides, Mifune-sensei isn't even here."

"Hello, Ayame," said a voice from behind her.

Ayame went rigid, nearly dropping her paint brush. Morgan let out a sound that she could have sworn was a snicker, turning her head away from Ayame.

"Mifune-sensei," Ayame said, tilting her head back and giving the imposing teacher a nervous grin. "Hello. You're looking great today, sensei. Are you doing something different with your hair?"

"Spare me the flattery," Mifune said, walking past her. "Cassandra?"

Cassie tugged her headphones off of her ears, looking up. "Yes, teach?"

"Make sure no paint gets on the floor."

"You got it, teach," said Cassie, giving Mifune a smile and a thumbs up. Mifune nodded, walking away.

As soon as he was gone, Ayame turned to Cassie, who was in the process of putting her headphones back on. "You and Mifune-sensei seem to get along pretty well," she said. "How'd that happen?"

"He helped me with some stuff before I became a student at the DWMA," said Cassie, smiling. "It's kind of a long story." Before Ayame could ask her more, Cassie tugged her headphones up over her ears and returned to typing away at her laptop.

Ayame frowned, opening her mouth to ask her question louder, but before she could a loud shout sounded from the middle of the dojo, followed by a splash. She looked up at the same time as Morgan and Vayne did, seeing Clark standing in a puddle of red, red paint covering him from head to foot and pooling in the tarp beneath his feet.

Rhythm stood in front of him, a scowl on her face and an empty bucket of red paint in her hand. As Clark spluttered at her, she tossed the can onto the ground with a decisive thunk, turning on heel and walking away.

"Oh boy," Rei said.

Ayame whistled. "Strike two for loverboy."

"I'm sure it's been more than two," said Morgan.

"Dammit," Vayne said, getting up. He picked up a wash cloth and stalked over to Clark angrily, grabbing him by his vest and turning him to face him. Cassie blinked in interest, watching the scene from over her laptop with her headphones still on. "Could you just, maybe, _not_ make an enemy out of every girl in the class?"

"It's not my fault," Clark whined. "I was just complimenting her on what a good job she did with the painting."

"Yeah, yeah," said Vayne, yanking Clark's glasses off and scrubbing roughly at the red paint on his face. "What about Cassie, huh? Were you just messing around?"

"Ow—watch it," said Clark, wincing. "And of course my heart belongs to Cassandra, but she clearly isn't ready to return my feelings. I'm not the sort of crass animal that would harass a girl who doesn't show any interest."

"Oh, really?" asked Vayne. "Because you know, pretty damn sure Rhythm shot you down on the first day of class."

"That was because she didn't know me yet," said Clark.

"Yeah, yeah," Vayne said. "Shut up and close your eyes. Should have just let her blind you…You know, here's an idea. How about you tell Cassie how you feel when she can actually _hear_ you?"

"Hey…" said Cassie, tugging one of the earpieces off. "Is it just me, or are Clark and Vayne kinda…you know? Shippy?"

" _Seriously?!"_ Ayame asked, turning towards Cassie. " _That's_ what you're getting out of this?"

"Shippy?" Rei asked, looking back at Cassie with a frown. "What, like a boat?"

"Congratulations," Ayame said in frustration, spreading her hands out at both of them. "I pronounce you the king and queen of 'totally missing the point'."

"What point am I missing, Ayame dear?" Cassie asked, tilting her head in confusion.

"Yeah, Ayame, what is she talking about?" asked Rei.

" _You_ ," said Ayame, pointing at Cassie, "I don't even know where to start, and _you_ ," She pointed at Rei. "You really don't want to know."

"She thinks that Clark would be romantically interested in Vayne," Morgan explained in a deadpan voice, continuing to paint. "instead of taking note of his actual interest in her."

Rei coughed and spluttered, nearly falling over. "What? _Vayne_? _Seriously_?!"

Ayame looked at Cassie, but as usual, she had missed the last part of Morgan's sentence and was now typing furiously away at her screen, her headphones up.

"There she goes again!" Ayame said, gesturing at Cassie. She let out a sigh and collapsed on the ground, closing her eyes. "Ugh, I can't take it."

" _Vayne?"_ Rei asked again, still incredulous.

Morgan shrugged, continuing to paint.

* * *

It had taken a while for things to calm down after that, and for Rei to accept that, yes, someone could be that oblivious. Thankfully, they'd managed to compose themselves before Vayne came back to start painting again. Rei didn't even want to imagine how Vayne would react if he knew what Cassie was suggesting, but probably not well.

He and Ayame painted a few more panels together before he stood up and excused himself, stepping outside to get a glass of water and some air.

It was almost sunset by now, but despite that, the school wasn't empty, both E.A.T. and N.O.T. students working hard on their respective booths. Rei passed a pair of girls dressed in mismatched school uniforms and carrying a table between them, rounding the corner towards the drinking fountain.

"Well," said a voice from beside him. "Look who showed up. It's the Evans kid."

Rei froze, looking to his right. Grayson and Richard were leaning against the wall near the entrance to their classroom, accompanied by another two members of their entourage, a lean dark-haired meister girl named Xiaoying and her weapon, a boy named Seth.

"Heard you joined the tournament, Evans," Grayson said, grinning at him. "Someone's getting confident."

"One successful mission, and you think you own the school," said Richard, his arms folded. "Must be nice, hmm?"

He forced himself to take in a breath, forced himself to continue to move, walking towards the drinking fountain down the hall. "I'm not here to talk to you," he said.

"Ooh," said Grayson, exchanging smirks with Xiaoying and Seth. "Listen to him. It's like he's forgotten who's won two years in a row."

"Just goes to show you," said Seth, "All you need to get confidence is to find yourself a weapon that's stronger than you."

Rei clenched his fists tightly, forcing himself to walk away. He told himself that it wasn't because he was scared, that Richard, Grayson and the others would get theirs in the tournament, but he didn't quite believe it.

He drank water, but it soured his stomach, and he took the long way around to get back to the dojo.

They were laughing and talking when he got back, Clark having changed into his gym shirt to help them paint. Rei tried to walk into the room like nothing was wrong, but Ayame noticed his expression immediately, sitting back on her heels and turning towards him. The smile fell away from her face, replaced by a concerned frown as the other four quieted down as well.

"Rei?" Ayame asked. "Did something happen?"

He could feel their eyes on him, could see the concern written all over Ayame's face.

"No," he heard himself say, stepping forward. "Everything's fine."

Ayame frowned, but let her move past him, picking his paintbrush up again. The other four hesitantly returned to their conversation.

He made his way back to the group, settling down next to Ayame. She frowned at him, and before he could say anything, reached up, squeezing his shoulder.

"Don't let them get to you," she said, going back to painting.

"Yeah," Rei said softly, lowering his voice so that only she could hear it. He dipped his brush in paint. "I won't."

* * *

**Omake**

_Franken Stein's Laboratory/Residence_

"Have fun, children!" Marie said from the door, smiling at Jonas and Gavril as the two boys pulled a hand cart loaded with several boxes down the road. "Be careful."

"We will, Marie-sensei!" Jonas promised, raising his hand in a wave as they pulled the cart down the bumpy road.

Marie smiled, stepping back into the lab and closing the door. She walked into the space that served as Stein's lab and her sitting room, setting a beaker of coffee to heat over a Bunsen burner and beginning to tidy up. The new first years in Class Moonless Night were so cute. They reminded her of Shelley when she had been that age.

The door to the house opened and closed again.

"I'm back," Stein said, from the doorway.

"Welcome home," Marie said, leaning over the partition between the lab and the rest of the house to greet him. "I'm making tea."

Stein hummed in response, walking past her and staring intently at a sheet of paper in his hand. She glanced over, recognizing Shelley's handwriting. Marie smiled and went back to what she was doing, taking out the sugar and cream.

Stein stopped in the center of the lab, reaching out for something with one hand while continuing to read. The hand groped blindly in the empty air for a minute before Stein paused, straightening up and lowering the sheet of paper. He looked around, his eyes sweeping from one side of the now-empty lab to the other.

"Marie," he said after a moment, his voice soft. "Where are all my things?"

"Oh, I lent them to Jonas and Gavril from Class Moonless Night," Marie said. "They said they were putting on a haunted house."

"You did _what?!"_ Stein asked loudly, turning towards her.

X

Elsewhere in Death City, Jonas and Gavril picked up speed as they heard Stein's shout, both of them pale as they disappeared into the streets.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Angela's familiar is named after Pascal the chameleon from the Disney Princess movie Tangled. Thought it would be cute.
> 
> No, Vayne x Clark is not happening. But Cassie thinks it is.


	9. Death Fest Pt. 1; The Tournament Begins!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clark's battle theme is Concept of Love from the Jet Set Radio Future soundtrack. Keep that in mind for…certain scenes.

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

**Death Fest Pt. 1; The Tournament Begins!**

* * *

Ayame grinned as her opponent came towards her, sinking down into a crouch and holding her arms open to receive him. As he ran at her, she clasped her hands around his arms and pressed her shoulder against his chest, loading him onto her back with a slight grunt of effort. She turned, sending him flying down onto the mat. He struck it hard, letting out a grunt of impact, and didn't get back up.

"Alright," Ayame said cheerfully, dusting her hands off and looking around at the class. "Who's next?"

The ones who were still standing took a collective step back. From the ground, Ayame's former opponents let out pained groans.

Mira Naigus, DWMA nurse and unarmed combat instructor, stood just off the sparring mat, a clipboard in her hand. She glanced down at it as Ayame raised her arms over her head in a lazy stretch, marking down a few things next to Ayame's name.

"Ayame's combat abilities and form are excellent," Naigus said. "Of course, I wouldn't expect anything less from someone from that family."

Mifune grunted from where he was leaning against the wall next to her, his arms folded. "She lacks discipline," he said.

"They're first-years," Naigus said. "They all lack discipline."

Mifune said nothing in reply, continuing to watch the spars. From the center of the mat, Ayame grinned, turning around to scan the rest of the room again.

"Come on, nobody?" she asked. "Nobody at all? No one wants to face the next Death Fest tournament champion? Come on, you guys, I'm not even tired yet."

"Of course no one's going to want to spar with you, idiot," Rei muttered under his breath from where he was leaning against the wall, a bottle of water in his hand. "You keep breaking them." One of her latest opponents groaned at him from somewhere near his foot, and Rei frowned at him before taking a sip of his water.

"She does get a little…overly exuberant," Cassie noted, looking up from her book to poke the poor semi-conscious student with her foot.

Morgan hummed in response, but didn't move to step forward, instead glancing at Vayne. Rei followed her glance, turning towards the pendulum weapon. Vayne was stretching, but at their glances he jumped up, holding his hands towards them.

"Hey, don't look at me," he said. "I'm tapped out. And I'm not _crazy_."

"Interesting," said a voice, making Rei look up. Clark brushed past them, walking towards the mat. Vayne stared at him as he stepped up onto it, his eyes widening.

" _Clark?!"_ he asked.

Clark came to a stop in front of Ayame, experimentally rolling his shoulder. The class stared at him, suddenly deathly silent. He gave her a smile. "I'll take you on, Ayame," he said.

"You sure, pretty boy?" Ayame asked, turning her grin on him. "I'm not exactly great at holding back, you know. Would hate for anything to happen to your face."

Clark smiled, and something harsh took over his expression for a moment, his smile becoming a smirk. He reached up, pulling his glasses off of his face with one hand and pushing his hair back with the other. "That's a risk I'm going to have to take," he said. "Vayne."

Vayne straightened up automatically, looking at Clark in confusion. "Huh?"

Clark flicked his hand towards Vayne, his glasses flying towards him in an arc. Vayne's eyes widened and he stumbled forward as he reached for them, barely managing to catch them. The blond meister turned towards Ayame, holding his hand towards her.

"Ladies first," he said.

Ayame grinned, sinking down into a crouch. "Oh, you're going to regret that, pretty boy," she said.

She launched herself at him suddenly, almost too fast to see. Her left hand came up in a punch, moving towards the side of Clark's head. Rei sucked in a breath, bracing himself for the carnage that would inevitably ensue.

Ayame rushed towards the meister, her fist flying through the air. Clark didn't move. And then he did.

He ducked under her blow, sidestepping it neatly and swiping at her neck with an open-hand strike. Ayame's eyes widened briefly as he moved to the side and Rei saw something light up in them as she blocked Clark's blow with her forearm, dropping down into a crouch. Her leg unfolded with a snap as she twisted to the side, kicking at his torso.

Instead of trying to dodge, Clark moved with her, surging forward just as she kicked at him and clasping one of her wrists with both his hands. He turned in the same direction that she did, moving out of the way of her kick and pushing her towards the ground. Ayame took a back roll as she lost her balance, flipping back over and getting easily to her feet.

She rushed forward as soon as she was back on her feet, lashing at Clark in a complex series of blows and kicks, most of them aimed at his head. Clark smirked, swaying gracefully from left to right as he avoided each blow, Ayame's hands and feet coming within millimeters of him each time.

Rei stared, openmouthed, as Ayame drove Clark back across the mat, Clark still dodging each of her blows. Sweat glistened off of Ayame's brow as she moved, droplets gleaming in the air as she kicked at Clark. Both fighters were smiling, Clark's smirk matched by Ayame's savage grin. They were _enjoying_ this, he realized, but since when could Clark move like that?

"Oh no," Vayne said, still holding onto Clark's glasses. "There he goes…"

Before Rei could ask him what he meant, Ayame moved suddenly in a grand gesture, throwing her entire body into a high kick as she swung her foot at the side of the Clark's head. The move was one he'd seen her employ a thousand times, but she over-rotated a fraction as she turned, her momentum carrying her just a little too far. It was a small mistake, but Clark noticed it, his smirk widening as he ducked under her kick and unfolded from beneath her, aiming an elbow strike at her face.

Ayame swatted his strike aside with her palm, managing to deflect it as she regained her balance. She kept his hand there with her palm as she ducked, winding up a powerful punch with her free hand and aiming it at his belly. Clark twisted aside before her strike could connect, the blow missing him by a fraction as he slid inside her reach. He aimed an elbow strike at her collarbone, following it up with a quick snap of his wrist and sending his knuckles flying right at her nose. Ayame jerked her head and upper body back, dodging both strikes, and Clark ducked, sweeping his foot out in a wide arc at her ankles.

She braced her hands on both of his shoulders as she leaped over the foot sweep, then dug her fingers into the fabric of his gi as she landed on the ground, planting her weight firmly and throwing him to the side with a grunt of effort. Clark went flying, but managed to make it look graceful as he flipped over in the air, landing lightly on the ground. He flicked his hair out of his face with a jerk of his head, beads of moisture flying as he turned to face Ayame. Something gleamed in his eyes as Ayame charged at him, his smirk growing just a little more savage.

Ayame threw a punch at the side of his head. He ducked under it easily, but she had been feinting that time. Her second punch, the one with her other hand, connected with his side, sending Clark pitching to his right with a grunt of pain. She spun towards him to follow up, her leg snapping towards his chin. Clark drew in a breath sharply through his teeth, darting to the side and placing one hand on her ankle to keep her in place and deflect the blow. With the other hand, he darted forward, swiping it at her collarbone.

Ayame grunted as the blow connected, Clark's hand coming down on her left side, just across her collarbone. Clark pushed off on her ankle as his hand struck, upsetting her balance and pushing her over backwards. She landed on her back and quickly spun around so that she was standing, aiming another punch at his face. Clark stepped back out of the range of her strike, catching her wrist before she could pull it back and moving close towards her again, pinning her wrist to her own chest.

Something changed in his soul wavelength, something like static electricity humming in the air around him. Rei watched, his eyes wide, as Clark's soul flared up, light shining around the orb as he moved his left hand, folding down all but the first two of his fingers. The light crackled around his soul, arcing from his center to his fingertips in a bright white line and out through Ayame as he moved his left hand sharply, his fingers stabbing at her shoulder.

Her hand in his went limp. Ayame's eyes widened as the two of them jumped backwards and away from each other, her arm hanging loosely at her side. A spark of white light appeared from Clark's fingertip as he straightened up, watching her. She glanced at her numbed arm, rolling her shoulder experimentally, then looked at Clark.

To Rei's surprise, she didn't charge forward. Instead, she grinned, inclining her head at him.

"Not bad," she said. "Guess you're not entirely hopeless after all."

Clark stared at her for a moment and then exhaled, slowly relaxing his hand and unfurling the rest of his fingers. The electricity around him dissipated, the wild look in his eyes disappearing. When he looked up at Ayame, his smile was normal again, the hair he had slicked back with one hand falling back into its usual position. Rei exhaled as well and realized he had been holding his breath.

"You were quite brilliant as well, Ayame," he said.

"Alright, teach," said Ayame, looking at Naigus. "I'm good for the day. You can give someone else the floor now."

Naigus nodded, marking down something on her sheet. "Would someone else like to take the mat?" she asked. "Vayne?"

Rei turned towards Ayame as Vayne stepped forward, passing Clark his glasses and a bottle of water as he walked up onto the mat. She settled against the wall next to him, a towel slung over her shoulder and a contented smile on her face as she rubbed at her numb arm. The fingers of her limp hand twitched, a sign that the feeling was coming back.

"Why'd you stop?" Rei asked as Clark moved out of earshot, drinking down his bottle of water.

"Cause it's a spar," Ayame said, smiling at him. She picked up her towel, wiping at her face.

"So?" Rei asked.

"Pretty boy was taking it a little too seriously, bringing out the big guns with that wavelength attack," Ayame said. "If I'd let it go on, it would've become a fight. And I've got a few surprises of my own." She smirked at him, raising one finger and letting it transform into a blade. It gleamed black in the sunlight coming in through the dojo's high windows, and Rei shivered.

"Believe it or not," Ayame said, her hand returning back to normal as she picked up her own bottle of water. "I actually like Clark."

She smiled at him, then raised the bottle to her lips, drinking deep.

* * *

"So yeah, tomorrow, while you guys are at the tourney, we're planning on working the booth in shifts so that we can come out to watch your matches," Vayne said, his hands clasped together on the back of his neck as the six of them walked down the corridor towards the dojo, Vayne and Clark leading the way. "I'm gonna be spending most of my time outside with the sign, so I'll get to keep an eye on the tournament rankings."

"Because he's too chicken to actually work in the haunted house," Ayame whispered to Rei from where they walked in the rear of the group, snickering. Cassie and Morgan walked just ahead of them, Cassie humming to herself with her headphones on as Morgan walked stoically, her eyes fixed ahead of her.

"I heard that, Ayame," said Vayne, looking over his shoulder and shooting her a glare.

"I do hope I didn't hit you too hard, Ayame," said Clark, smiling at her from over his shoulder. "I'd hate to be responsible for affecting your performance in the tournament."

"Nah," said Ayame, placing a hand on her shoulder and rolling it. "Feels just fine. It's gonna take more than a little tap to put me out of the action."

Rei shoved his hands into the pocket of his coat, trying hard not to think about the tournament tomorrow. Each time he thought about it, his stomach started churning uncomfortably. He told himself that it wasn't going to be that different from a mission or a spar, but he couldn't seem to make himself believe that.

"Where'd you learn to fight like that anyway?" he asked Clark, since it was easier than talking about tomorrow's matches.

"Oh, I did some martial arts as a kid," said Clark, shrugging.

"What kind of martial arts?" asked Ayame, interested.

"Hmm…kenpo, aikido, karate, that sort of thing," said Clark. "I did a little jiu jitsu, but the grappling really wasn't my style. Nothing too impressive. I'm sure it's nothing compared to your own combat training, Ayame."

"Sounds pretty impressive to me," Rei muttered.

His own combat training had consisted of joking around with his siblings or half-heartedly attempting to imitate his mother's stances while she practiced before going back to his book. Knowing that didn't make him feel any better about his tournament chances.

"Not at all," said Clark, still smiling genially. "It was only a hobby."

Rei frowned at Clark, watching as the other boy turned his attention back to the path ahead. Clark seemed to be his usual self now, cavalier and acting like the spar earlier had been nothing worthy of mentioning, but that wasn't how he had been in the fight with Ayame. There was something lurking inside him, Rei realized, something that he'd glimpsed in that spar that had almost come out. Now that he'd seen it, he wondered if he would ever look at Clark in the same way again.

Then Clark rounded the corner and blinked in confusion as a small child barreled into him and threw her arms around his waist, and Rei had to revise his opinion.

The child was a girl about six years old, brown-haired and hazel-eyed, and wearing a light pink dress. She giggled at him, tightening her hold. "Clark!" she said, excitedly. "We missed you!"

Clark blinked down at her, momentarily stunned as she was joined by a younger boy, also brown-haired, who promptly attached himself to Clark's leg.

"Amelia? Jason?" Clark asked, putting his hand on the girl's head. "What are you two doing here?"

He looked up and seemed to freeze for a moment. Rei rounded the corner, looking over Clark's shoulder and nearly bumping straight into Morgan as he did. His parents, Maka and Soul, were standing in the hallway, looking like they'd been about to leave the DWMA for the day. Standing with them were another couple, both of them dark-haired and smiling at Clark.

"There you are, Clark," Maka said, stepping forward. She smiled at him as well. "Your parents arrived today. I told them you might still be in the showers after Naigus-sensei's class. We were just waiting for you."

The man walked over to Clark, enveloping him in a hug. A half-beat later, the woman joined him, embracing Clark as well.

"It's good to see you, Clark," said the man, Clark's father. "We missed you."

"Hi, Dad," said Clark, still looking stunned. He stood stiffly in their embrace, his eyes fixed ahead of him. "…Mom."

Clark's parents pulled back, his father leaving his hands on his shoulders. "Are you going to introduce us to your friends?" his father asked.

Clark blinked, and then seemed to recover. "Uh—yeah," he said. "Um…Mom, Dad, these are my classmates—Rei, Ayame, Morgan and Cassie. And this is my partner, Vayne."

"It's good to meet you, Vayne," said Clark's father, clasping Vayne's hand. "We've heard a lot about you."

Cassie unhooked one side of her headphones from around her ear, leaning towards Rei and Ayame. "So by _partner,_ " she said, one hand cupped around her mouth. "Does he mean…?"

"He means like me and Rei, Cassie," said Ayame, "Get your mind out of the gutter."

Cassie frowned. "You know, that really doesn't hel— _ow!_ Morgan, what was that for?"

"I'm listening," said Morgan, lowering her arm from where she had elbowed Cassie in the side. "And they can probably hear you."

Cassie frowned, rubbing at her ribs as she turned to watch the conversation, tugging her headphones fully down around her neck. Clark's mother had just managed to pry the children off of him and was smiling at him, her hand on the little boy's head.

"We were just having a chat with your homeroom teacher," said Clark's mother. "Mrs. Evans was saying you two went to Japan."

"Uh—yes," said Clark, with a glance at Vayne. "We did."

"How exciting," said Clark's mother, "You're going to have to tell us all about it."

"Well, there's not much to tell," said Clark. "The mission was to stop an oni—um, a monster—from terrorizing a small village. We went, but the monster was too afraid to fight. Um, it—."

"It took one look at me and ran away," said Vayne, placing a hand on Clark's shoulder. "So, you know. Easy A. We spent the rest of the time hanging out in hot springs and shopping in Tokyo. Uh—you didn't hear that, Maka-sensei."

Maka frowned at him from where she stood next to Soul, her arms folded, but she said nothing.

"That sounds dangerous," said Clark's father, looking back at Maka. "Are you sure it's safe to send them out on assignments like that?"

"As safe as it can be," said Maka, "They went out in groups, and their assignments were rated to their levels. Don't worry, they're very capable."

"Even so," said Clark's father. "Don't you think they're a little young—?"

Clark interrupted him, tugging on his sleeve. "Uh—Dad?" he said. "We're, um, heading out to put the finishing touches on our haunted house booth now, if you guys want to take a look at it."

"Haunted house!" said the little girl, Amelia. "I want to see the haunted house! Mama, can we go see the haunted house?"

"Haunted house!" the little boy echoed, stumbling over the syllables.

Their mother hesitated for a moment as she looked down at them, then smiled, looking back up at Clark. "Of course," she said. "Your brother's going to show it to us now. Thank you for waiting with us, Mr. and Mrs. Evans." She turned towards Clark. "Did you know that Mr. Evans is apparently something called a Death Scythe? What is it that you do for the school again, Mr. Evans?"

"Administration," said Soul vaguely, his hands in his pockets. That was probably smart, Rei thought, given the Greysteils' reaction to hearing about Clark's mission. They probably wouldn't react too well hearing about the entire DWMA military arm.

"How grand," said Mrs. Greysteil, smiling, "My cousin acts as an administrator for a private school, back in Virginia. It's a thankless job, isn't it?"

"Sometimes," said Soul.

"And are you related to the violinist Wes Evans?" asked Mrs. Greysteil. "We heard him perform a few months ago, and he mentioned this school. It was a brilliant performance."

"My brother…" Soul began.

"Ah, I thought so!" said Mrs. Greysteil, clapping her hands together before Soul could finish. "I saw the resemblance. Do you play an instrument too, Mr. Evans?"

Rei inwardly winced. Thankfully, Maka stepped forward, stopping Soul from having to answer that.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but we really have to go," she said, smiling at Mrs. Greysteil. "We have to pick our daughters up from school. You know how it is."

"Of course, of course," said Mrs. Greysteil, waving her hand. "I'll see you tomorrow, I'm sure."

"I'm sure," said Maka. "Most of the exhibits will be open tomorrow, and they should all be appropriate for children. The tournament will also be available for viewing if you want to get a taste of what the E.A.T. class learns here."

"Tournament," said Clark's father, turning towards Clark. "Well, that brings back memories. Are you joining that, son?"

"Not this year," said Clark. "But my friends are." He gestured at Rei and Ayame. Ayame grinned, raising her hand in a confident wave as Rei did his best to not be seen. Maka smiled at him.

"Rei is my son, actually," said Maka. "We're all looking forward to seeing how the tournament plays out."

"Oh, well, good luck," said Clark's mother, smiling at Rei. "Honestly, Mrs. Evans, you look too young to have a boy Clark's age."

Maka's smile grew a little strained, her eyebrow twitching. Rei, knowing how sensitive she was to anything that she could possibly have in common with her father, winced, but Mrs. Greysteil didn't seem to notice.

"Thank you," Maka said. "I was twenty-four actually."

_She didn't need to know that, Mom…_ Rei thought, groaning inwardly. He exchanged a glance with his father, who was wearing the exact same expression. If Mrs. Greysteil noticed that anything was amiss though, she didn't show it.

"Well, he seems like a fine boy," she said. "I hope everything goes well tomorrow."

"Mama, what about the haunted house?" Amelia asked, tugging at her skirt.

"Yeah," echoed Jason. "Haunted house."

"Yes, yes," said Mrs. Greysteil. She nodded at Clark. "Lead the way, Clark dear."

"And then after, how about you show us where you live, and then we take your friends out to dinner?" Mr. Greysteil asked.

"Dinner sounds great!" Cassie said, before Morgan could stop her. Morgan looked from the Greysteil family to Cassie and back to the family again before shooting Cassie a desperate look that Rei couldn't help but empathize with.

"Dinner sounds good…" Rei began.

"—but we can't stay out late, because we're prepping for the tournament!" Ayame finished, grinning at the Greysteils. Rei glanced at her as she settled back into her spot beside him, silently grateful.

"Of course," said Mr. Greysteil, "Wouldn't want to keep you two. I'm sure you're looking to get an early night's sleep. So, Clark, lead on."

Clark cleared his throat and nodded, leading them in the direction of the haunted house.

* * *

Rei sat on his bed later that evening, his eyes fixed on the moon through his window. The perpetual crescent moon was hanging overhead, leering down on the streets of Death City. It grinned, and for a minute Rei thought that it was laughing at him.

All around him, the apartment was dark. He and Ayame had gotten back from dinner with Clark's parents a long time ago. It was well past the time when they should have both been in bed.

The door to his room slid open with barely a whisper.

Rei didn't look up.

"You're still awake?" Ayame asked from the doorway, her voice soft in the quiet of the room. She stepped forward, her footsteps barely audible as she approached him. "You really need to go to sleep, Rei. You'll be tired tomorrow."

"I know," Rei said, not looking at her. He kept his eyes on the moon. He knew that he should have been asleep, but his mind was still racing, still thinking about the tournament tomorrow. Each time he thought about it, his stomach tightened in knots, and he knew that sleep wouldn't come.

"Are you still worrying about tomorrow?" Ayame asked. "We'll be fine, Rei. Don't worry about it. You don't need to freak out about a little tournament when you have a weapon like me."

He didn't say anything, because there wasn't much he could say to that. Instead, his fingers closed tightly around his knee, digging into his skin through the fabric of his sweatpants.

Ayame stared at him for a moment more before letting out a breath in a huff and walking away.

Instead of walking to the door, she walked over to his desk, pulling his chair out and dragging it to the side of the bed. Rei did look up then, turning towards her in surprise as she set the chair down and plopped herself into it so that she was facing him, her arms crossed and a look of determination on her face.

"Ayame?" Rei asked.

"If you're not sleeping, I'm not sleeping," said Ayame. "I'm going to sit right here until you sleep. But just so you know, if I don't get any sleep, that means I'm _also_ not going to be 100% tomorrow."

Rei blinked at her in surprise, his eyes wide as he met her own. Ayame's expression didn't change, her eyes narrowed in determination and her arms crossed in front of her chest. If he didn't sleep, she wouldn't sleep. If she didn't sleep, she wouldn't do as well tomorrow. And it would be all his fault.

He felt a flash of frustration, and then a smile that came to his mouth before he could stop it. She had him and she knew it.

He found that he didn't really mind.

"Alright," he said, forcing a scowl onto his face as he settled back onto the bed, throwing the blankets over himself and turning onto his side so that he was facing away from her. "You win."

Ayame didn't move, continuing to watch him. She remained there until sleep claimed him, then got up and quietly left the room.

* * *

Ayame walked through the DWMA in the last hour before the Death Festival actually opened, a grin on her face. She moved past groups of students rushing to make last minute preparations to their booths or chattering excitedly as they ran towards the tournament arena, moving through the school's twisting maze of corridors and hallways until she came to Class Moonless Night's haunted house in the dojo.

She walked past Professor Stein giving Jonas what sounded like a long and potentially terrifying lecture, complete with a list of approved chemical mixtures that he was not to deviate from under _any_ circumstances, past Ophelia putting the finishing touches on her partner's undead demon warrior costume, and past the pair of girls dressed as ghostly maids who were setting up the haunted house's waiting area/maid café, filling up coffeemakers with water and making sure tables and chairs were set up and ready, finally coming to a stop at where Vayne and Clark stood, both of them already in costume as they supervised the process.

The two of them were dressed as some strange combination of vampire and butler, their costumes more or less matching. Vayne had the sign for the Class Moonless Night booth already in hand and Clark was looking through a clipboard, probably trying to put any last minute things back in order. They both stopped as she approached them, looking up at her. Clark's smile looked a little strained, although whether it was from the stress of putting together a booth this large or from his family being in town, Ayame wasn't sure.

"Where's your family, Clark?" Ayame asked, glancing around. She hadn't seen anyone on DWMA's campus yet that weren't students or staff. Clark's grimace told her all she needed to know about his mental state.

"They're coming over when the exhibit officially opens," Clark said.

"Where's Rei?" asked Vayne.

"Psyching himself out," Ayame said, grinning. "Where else?"

"Typical," said Vayne, giving her a tired grin back. "Are you heading out too?"

"Yeah," said Ayame. "Opening ceremonies are in half an hour. Just wanted to check in on things here. You're coming out to watch the fights right?"

"Just text Vayne when your fights are," said Clark. "We'll be there."

"Oh yeah," said Vayne, looking up as though he had just remembered something. "Morgan and Cassie are gonna be late—apparently Morgan still needs to get her make-up on or something?—but Cassie said to wish you guys luck, so you know, good luck."

"Thanks," said Ayame, "You guys too."

She waved at them, walked out through the door (where Stein was _still_ lecturing Jonas) and made her way back to the arena.

The earlier matches of the tournament would be fought in two locations, the DWMA's colosseum and the open training field behind the school. In order to keep things flowing so that the tournament finished at the end of the day, the participants would be divided up into two groups, the tournament running as normal at each location until each group was down to their final pair. The finals would be held in the colosseum later tonight, after which Shinigami-sama would host the closing ceremonies. Ayame didn't particularly care which group she was in, as long as she and Rei got to stand on the winner's stage at the end of the night.

There were exactly 32 pairs waiting in the wings for the tournament to begin, Shinigami-sama absolutely refusing to host the tournament with any number of people that wouldn't result in a symmetrical bracket. She made her way to the waiting area under the raised seats of the colosseum, moving past the other participants until she found her partner.

Rei was seated on a bench, staring down at his hands with a nervous expression. She plopped down into the seat next to him, stretching out, and he jumped.

"Ayame," he said. "Don't scare me like that!"

"Oh, come on, you should know it's me by now," said Ayame, grinning at him. "How do you feel?"

Rei scowled at her, but glanced away, looking back down at his hands. "As well as I'll ever feel, I guess," he said. "How are the others doing?"

"Scrambling," said Ayame. "Clark's stressing himself out as usual. Morgan and Cassie are running late. Vayne says everyone says good luck. You ready to go?"

"No," Rei admitted. He drew in a deep breath then raised his head, giving her a tentative grin. "But we might as well go do this, huh?"

"That's the spirit," said Ayame. She got to her feet just as the whistle sounded, calling the participants out into the center of the colosseum, and offered Rei a hand. He took it, letting her help him up.

"Come on," Rei said, releasing Ayame's hand. "Let's go see who we're fighting first."

Ayame grinned, following him out into the open air.

* * *

Soul glanced down as his phone buzzed, the messages from Wes coming in at the same time as a whistle sounded and the crowd around them erupted into cheers. He leaned back against the bleachers and swiped his thumb over the lock screen of his smartphone, revealing the texts.

_**08:00** _ _Sorry again about not being able to make it. Cathy has a recital today._

_Tell Rei I said good luck._

He smiled in spite of himself, tapping out a quick reply. Beside him, Cori nudged his leg impatiently.

"Papa," she whined, "It's _starting_!"

"Alright, alright," said Soul, slipping his phone back into his pocket. "I'm watching."

Maka walked past him, Annie clinging tightly to her skirt. The little girl sat down next to her sister as Maka passed out the candy she had bought from one of the vendors, settling down on the other side of the twins and pulling her phone out to take the videos she had promised Black Star and Tsubaki.

"Send me those videos when you're done," Soul said.

Maka blinked up at him in surprise and then smiled as she realized where those videos were meant to go.

"Sure," she said, nodding.

Cori tugged on his sleeve a little more insistently and Soul relented, leaning forward slightly so that he could see the tournament participants gathered on the floor below. He could see Rei and Ayame standing close to the edge, both of them looking up at the balcony where Kid stood, Liz and Patty on either side of him and a large screen arranged symmetrically behind him.

"Welcome," he said, "to the DWMA's Death Festival. As you know, the festival represents the strength and passion of the DWMA's heart, its students. The festival…"

Soul started to tune out again, glancing back down at his phone.

"Papa!" said Cori sharply, nudging him in the side. Soul jumped.

"Yeah, yeah," he said, scowling as he put his phone away. Cori smiled in contentment, kicking her legs back and forth from where they hung over the edge of her seat. Soul looked up to see Maka smiling at him and gave her a look that said that next time, _she_ could sit next to Cori. Maka's smile only widened and she shook her head, placing her hand on Annie's head as Kid's speech went on.

Still, Soul thought, folding his arms and reluctantly looking back at the shinigami on the balcony, at least Maka was in a better mood than she had been last night. Her rant about the conversation with the Greysteils had gone on for a while. Soul winced slightly as he remembered some of it ( _"Who are Mr. and Mrs. Evans anyway?!"_ and _"Did you hear her? 'My cousin runs a private school…'."_ ). He'd known people like her before, back before joining the DWMA, and he was more than happy to let Wes deal with them.

Soul looked down as Kid's speech drew to a close, his eyes on the group of students gathered there. Kid spread his arms out in a grand gesture, getting ready to open the tournament up. At…exactly 8:08, Soul noted, his eyes going to the time printed on the upper right side of the tournament scoreboard.

"I expect fair and honest fights from each of you," Kid admonished. "Let the Death Festival tournament begin!"

At his signal, Liz and Patty each pressed a button, the tournament bracket appearing on the scoreboard. It was unclear to Soul why there had to be two buttons for this function, but he supposed it had something to do with symmetry. His eyes moved to the scoreboard as the brackets appeared, two separate groups of sixteen culminating in the finals that were scheduled for—no surprise—8:00 PM.

Rei and Ayame were in the colosseum group. Grayson and Richard, the two-time tournament champions and the people who Soul knew Rei had had some trouble with, were in the grass fields. Even from his place in the stands, he could see Rei relaxing after realizing that, his eyes fixed on the screen. Soul exhaled, not realizing that he was slightly worried about that confrontation until just now. He looked back at Rei and saw the exact moment when his son found his name in the bracket, the tension returning to him again.

Grayson and Richard might have been in the grass field group, but their lackeys, Xiaoying and Seth were not.

And they were the ones that Rei and Ayame were going to have to face first.

 


	10. Death Fest Pt. 2; Stand Up and Fight!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks so much for your reviews to the previous chapter. I really appreciate all the support for this story. Enjoy this next installment for the tournament arc (which will be 4 chapters long and the last major story point before the plot starts to get going), and thank you for reading.
> 
> Also, heads up. I'm not writing every single fight, because that will make these chapters way longer than they should be. I'm just writing the important/interesting ones.

**CHAPTER NINE**

**Death Fest Pt. 2; Stand Up and Fight!**

* * *

Rei stepped out into the ring as the whistle blew, ducking his head to shield his eyes from the sudden glare of the desert sun. Around him, the arena rang with the cheer of the crowd, not the deafening roar of a full stadium—that would come later, during the finals—but still more considerable than he would have thought it would be. He swallowed, trying to force down the uneasiness in his gut as he walked across to the center of the ring, Ayame behind him. She was looking around, taking in the crowd, but he didn't. He had a feeling that if he actually _did_ look up and see who was cheering for him, he might actually be sick.

Instead, he kept his gaze fixed ahead of him, stopping the same time as his opponent did. Sid was officiating the fight, the zombie standing between them, but giving them ample distance. Xiaoying stopped a few feet away from him as well, standing with an air of confidence as Seth sneered at them from behind her. She was dressed in a black qipao modified to allow her to move easily, a silver dragon coiling its way along the side of her skirt and her dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. Rei hadn't seen the need to wear anything different from what he normally did.

There had been two matches before this, and already the brackets displayed on the two screens around the arena had been updated, their fight highlighted now as, on the grass field bracket, Richard and Grayson advanced to the next round.

"So you did show up," Xiaoying said. "Seth and I had a bet."

"You lost me some money, Evans," Seth said. "I was sure you were going to run home to Mama, but Xiaoying thought you'd show your face before you surrendered."

Behind him, Ayame tensed, shooting him a look. Rei sucked in a breath, understanding. Ayame had warned him before this not to let them get to him.

"Enough," Sid said, drawing the banter to a stop. "Fighters at the ready."

"Seth," Xiaoying said, extending her hand to him. He transformed in a flash of light, becoming a bladed wheel, black steel forming a wave pattern around a leather handgrip that made up one side of the circle. She caught it in her hand, holding it in front of her as she sank down into her stance.

Rei unclenched his fist with what felt like entirely too much force of will, holding his hand out to Ayame. "Ayame," he said.

Ayame nodded, transforming in a flash of blue light. Her default form, her kusarigama mode, formed in his hands, the chain settling around him. He took a stance as well, scythe blades held out to either side of him. It was an offensive stance, one that told Xiaoying he meant to attack. She raised an eyebrow at that but said nothing.

"Remember," Sid said. "There are only two rules to this tournament. The first and most important, that no outside interference is allowed. The second, that the fight stops when the whistle blows. Fighters ready? Begin."

Rei charged forward, slashing at Xiaoying. At the same moment, Sid disappeared, tunneling beneath the colosseum and reappearing on the balcony a moment later.

Rei started with a slash to Xiaoying's chest with the right-hand scythe, keeping the left-hand scythe at his side to defend if necessary. She retaliated by swiping her ring upwards, bringing Rei's scythe up with it and knocking it out of the way as she stepped in, nimbly slashing at his chest. Rei's eyes widened and he jumped back, blocking her follow-up strike with his left-hand scythe. He grit his teeth as she pushed forward over their crossed weapons, unbalancing him, and jumped back to gain some distance.

Xiaoying didn't give him time to catch his breath, though. She spun, throwing Seth in the air, then immediately rushed in behind her weapon, aiming a knee-strike at the bottom of Rei's chin.

Rei's eyes widened and he immediately jerked his head back, avoiding the knee strike but very nearly getting caught by her ring, which hooked around behind him and came at him from behind. He managed to knock it out of the way with one of his scythes, using the other to swipe at her head. She ducked beneath it, but he hadn't been intending to hit her. He threw himself to the side as she pulled away from him, attempting to gain distance again.

Xiaoying swayed back and down away from his strike, then straightened up and caught Seth in one hand as he rebounded, coming back to her. Rei's eyes widened as she ran towards him again, leaping into the air and raising Seth for an overhand strike. His hands tightened around the grips of his kusarigama scythes. He blocked her strike, hooking the blade of his scythe around her ring's flat, but Xiaoying simply twisted her body around, kicking him in the side while he was otherwise occupied.

His eyes widened as he suddenly went flying, the impact knocking the wind out of him as he struck the ground hard, sliding against the colosseum's tiles before finally coming to a stop.

" _Rei!"_ Ayame shouted as he grit his teeth, pushing himself to his feet.

"She's fast," Rei muttered under his breath, looking from left to right as Xiaoying circled him, moving quickly enough that he was having trouble tracking her movements. She let Seth fly, the ring spinning in the air as it sailed around Rei, moving behind him. Before Rei could fully track its flight path, she rushed in, this time aiming a palm strike at his sternum.

" _Rei, behind you!"_ Ayame warned, as Xiaoying's palm came rushing in.

"I know!" Rei said, swatting her arm out of the way with his own before her strike could connect. He threw himself into a slide, sliding beneath her outstretched arm and straightening up behind her as Seth tore through the air where he had been standing a moment earlier. She caught Seth with one hand, spinning to face him, and Rei's mind raced as he tried to think of how to fight her.

She was strong and quick, skilled both with her hands and her weapon, and Rei knew that he wouldn't last very long in an extended engagement. To make matters worse, with a projectile weapon like Seth, she could essentially attack him on two fronts, distracting him with her hand-to-hand strikes while her weapon flew in for the kill, Seth's unpredictable flight path making it difficult to predict where he would strike. If that wasn't enough, they were fighting in the colosseum, an essentially open space. There was no way for him to go to get away from her, no place he could go to hide and regroup.

Nothing for it then. He'd just have to end this quickly.

"Ayame," he said, charging forward to meet her.

Ayame nodded, sinking down into her own stance, her hands spread apart from her.

Kusarigama form would be the best way to deal with Xiaoying, because it was the only one of Ayame's weapon forms that would allow him to attack and defend at the exact same time. His mind flashed through the way he had defeated Clark and Vayne in the spar as he rushed at Xiaoying. He only hoped that her weapon operated on the same principles.

As she slashed at him, he brought Ayame's right-hand scythe down, hooking it through the ring and slamming it down onto the ground. Xiaoying's eyes widened as she was suddenly unbalanced, and he stepped on the flat of Ayame's scythe blade to keep it there, leaping up and slashing at her with the left-hand scythe before she had time to react.

It was almost perfect. And then she smirked, and Seth's blade caught on fire.

The heat of the flames washed over him, searing his foot through his shoes and Rei let out a shout of pain. He heard Ayame shout his name as he recoiled in alarm, but before he could register what happening, a blast of wind followed the flames, Xiaoying pulling Seth out of the ground with a deft hand and swinging it at him. The wind and flames followed Seth's blade, the wind reaching him first and knocking him backwards.

He let out an involuntary shout as he was thrown back with sudden violent force, tumbling to the ground. Xiaoying followed him, wind and flame curled around her bladed ring in equal parts as she raised it over her head and made to slam it down.

* * *

"Rei!" Cori shouted, nearly jumping out of her seat.

Maka's eyes widened in surprise and sudden fear as Rei was thrown back, landing on the ground with enough force to crack the colosseum's tiles. She watched, horrified, as his opponent rushed towards him, her fiery ring raised overhead as she made to bring it down. She knew in her head that killing blows weren't allowed in this tournament, that Sid was watching closely and would stop the fight if it looked like anything untoward was happening, but the sight still made her heart stop.

And then a blade pierced the cloud of dust around Rei and she saw him, Ayame's katana form in his hand as he blocked the blow. He looked like he was struggling to move, but he managed to block the strike, and the knot in her chest eased slightly. He pushed hard against the sword, slashing, and managed to knock Xiaoying's strike off-line as he rolled out of the way, jumping up to his feet before she could recover. He gripped the katana in both hands, getting into a defensive stance.

"Hah," Soul said from the other side of the twins, and Maka realized he had been holding his breath as well.

She recognized what Rei was doing, switching from the versatile but short-ranged kusarigama to a longer weapon that gave him more reach without sacrificing maneuverability, but the flash of pride she felt that Rei had figured all of that out in the heat of the moment did nothing to ease the worry she felt. It wasn't helped as Rei blocked another one of Xiaoying's strikes with his sword and she dropped down and swept his feet out from under him with her own, throwing him to the ground again.

He rose to one knee, shaky this time, and tried to stand up. Before he could, Xiaoying twisted around, kicking him in the face dispassionately and sending him flying. Maka felt as if she was the one that had been kicked as Rei landed on the ground several feet away, onto his back. He rolled on his side and braced his hand underneath himself to push himself up, but his shoulders twitched, rising an inch off the ground before coming back down.

"No! Rei!" Cori did jump out of her seat then, grabbing hold of Annie's hand with her own. "Come on, we have to cheer for Rei!"

Maka didn't even try to stop her as she ran towards the railing in front of them, stopping only when she could look over its side and down into the arena below. "Rei!" she shouted loudly, her hands cupped around her mouth. "Rei! You can do it, Rei! Come on, Annie! You too! Cheer for Rei! _Rei!_ "

Annie looked around frantically, her eyes wide as her sister started shouting beside her, yelling into the arena as if she could change the tide of battle with the sound of her voice. And then Annie's own voice piped up, soft compared to Cori's, but there nonetheless.

"R-Rei," she said, then louder. "Rei! You can do it, Rei!"

"Rei!" Cori shouted, their voices overlapping with each other.

"Rei!" Annie said.

"Rei!"

* * *

"Rei! Rei! Rei!"

Rei grit his teeth as his name rang through the air, his hands shaking as he tried to force himself to get up. His head rang from the kick, his body refusing to obey him. He felt suddenly nauseous, his vision swimming. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sid move, descending from the balcony and landing on the ground with the air of someone about to call a fight. He felt the crowd swell, anticipating a victory, and he redoubled his efforts because he couldn't let it end here. He couldn't be done just from that.

Ayame wasn't done. He could hear her in the back of his mind, trying to speak to him, her voice overlapping with all the others.

"Rei!" someone shouted, and clarity exploded suddenly, the world coming back into focus. He could hear now, could hear individual words in the swell of the crowd, could hear Ayame and two, smaller voices saying his name.

He pushed himself up, his breath hitching as something in his chest protested the movement. The crowd's roar swelled and he saw Sid take a step back, but he didn't care about any of that. His eyes moved over the crowd, searching for the voices he had heard.

Annie and Cori, his sisters, were standing in the stands looking down at him. Behind them sat his parents, both of them already half out of their seats. His mom was still taking the video she had promised, but it looked half-forgotten now, her eyes only on him. And somewhere, not far behind them, dressed in a vampire outfit and looking worried, was Vayne. The others were there too, he knew, although he couldn't see them. Clark, Morgan and Cassie would be back at the haunted house, but they were in the stands with Vayne too, cheering for him in spirit.

" _Everybody's watching Rei,"_ Ayame said. _"Your sisters are calling you."_

"Yeah," Rei said, sucking in a breath as he straightened up fully and turned to face Xiaoying. "I hear them. Let's not let them down."

Xiaoying blinked in surprise as she saw him stand up, and then to his surprise, she tilted her head towards him, a gesture almost like respect. Flames erupted from along Seth's blade again, the wind warping to surround them, and she sank down into a stance. She darted to the side, moving to flank him, then twisted around, throwing Seth again.

Rei shifted his grip on Ayame's hilt to a one-handed grip then ran, not at her but at the blade she had thrown, at the ring spinning through the air that banked suddenly to meet him.

" _What are you going to do?"_ Ayame asked as he ran.

 _Something stupid,_ he thought, but he didn't have time for words. He didn't have much left in him. There wasn't much left to do but hope that this stupid plan of his worked. Seth cut through the air, wind and flames trailing behind him, and went into a dive as he approached him, sweeping horizontally across the ground. Rei ran towards the spinning ring until the last possible moment, then leaped up in the instant before Seth's serrated edge struck him, stabbing Ayame's katana form down into the ground.

The blade sank into the space in the center of Seth's ring, slicing into the tiles and remaining pinned there. Rei let go of her hilt and felt an instant of separation as he landed on the ground and continued running, heard Ayame shout for him as she spun around in her soul space, her eyes wide in alarm as she called his name.

" _Rei!"_

He ignored her, his breath coming out in a huff as he continued to run, running at Xiaoying. He spared a glance behind him to see Seth lying inert on the ground, to hear his own voice calling out to his meister. His guess had been correct, then. Seth's weapon form was like Ayame's shuriken form in a way—he could alter his path when he had been thrown, but only when he had momentum to begin with. He couldn't throw himself. Which meant as long as he was pinned to the ground, Rei had a little bit of time, about as much time as it took him to take his human form again and start running for Xiaoying. He heard a telltale ringing sound from behind him as Seth did exactly that, followed by a second one and the sound of a thud as Ayame literally swept him off his feet.

That was all the attention he could spare for that side of the field though, because Xiaoying had rushed at him at the same time as he rushed at her, and she was faster than he was. He saw the look of confusion in her eyes as she moved to strike. She knew he could never beat her in an unarmed fight, knew that he knew that, and wondered what he was playing at.

He didn't give her time to wonder for long.

"Ayame!"he shouted, his hand extended back towards her.

"Roger!" Ayame shouted back, standing over Seth's prone form. Before the other weapon could react, she transformed in a flash of light, weight and power slamming into his hand in an instant. He ducked beneath Xiaoying's strike, then darted around her, looping Ayame's chain so that it wrapped around her waist and pulling both scythes taut to keep her pressed against him.

He hooked one hand around her waist to hold her still, using the other to point his scythe blade at her neck. She went rigid. Across from her, Rei could see Seth picking himself up off the ground, his eyes wide as he stared helplessly at his meister. Rei held fast, not giving her any room to move as he looked around, scanning the stands for Sid.

He met Sid's eyes. The zombie stared back at him, then raised his hand to his mouth, blowing the whistle.

The crowd erupted into cheers.

* * *

Sid lowered his whistle from where he stood near the edge of the ring, watching as Rei released Xiaoying without a word, Ayame reverting back to her human form. He kept an eye on them, watching for any signs of trouble, but Xiaoying simply nodded at him, her face expressionless as, on the screen, Rei and Ayame's names advanced another round. She said something to him that made him nod and say something back, his expression serious, then said something else that made him pale, gesturing at her weapon and turning to leave the field. Sid watched as Rei and Ayame left as well, his eyes on the meister's retreating back.

His mind moved carefully through the fight again, taking note of Rei's movements. They had been unrefined to be sure, but he'd moved decisively, taking note of his opponent's strengths and adjusting to that.

 _Quick, quiet, tactical,_ Sid thought, feeling the beginnings of a smile come to his face as he stepped forward to prepare to officiate the next match. Just the sort of skills a DWMA covert agent might need.

He made a mental note to mark Rei down for special training.

After all, that was the kind of man he was.

* * *

Vayne walked past the small line of people waiting outside Class Moonless Night's haunted house, a small smile on his face as he made his way back from the tournament arena. Rei's method of victory had been interesting as usual, but a win was a win, and he had to admit that Ayame had managed to get Rei to take a lot more initiative than he ever did. Although, Vayne thought, with a small grin as he thought about his best friend, maybe he'd have been more successful at getting Rei to do stuff if he was _also_ a pretty girl with big violet eyes.

He'd have to tease Rei about that later. He smiled at the thought, his good mood enough to let him walk straight through the doors of the haunted house without flinching and into the lobby where Clark waited, ushering guests into seats at the café/waiting area with a gracious smile that said nothing about how tired he actually was. The café, thankfully, wasn't actually all that scary. Vayne thought he could handle it.

"Oh, you're back," said Clark as he approached, looking up from escorting a pair of girls from one of the first-year NOT classes to their seats. "How did it go?"

"Went well," Vayne said. "Rei and Ayame won. The first round's wrapping up right now, so I thought I'd go get back to work. You're up."

Clark grimaced, looking past Vayne to the line of people still waiting behind him and at Ophelia, peeking out from behind the haunted house's curtained off backstage area and gesturing at him. "I can't right now. I'm sorry," he said, adjusting his glasses. "Go find Morgan and let her go instead. I think she's about ready for a break. She should be back there somewhere."

"Back—back there?" Vayne asked, the color draining from his face as he looked behind Clark at the entrance to the haunted house. Morgan didn't have a cellphone, and even if she did, the signal in the dojo was spotty at best. Someone would have to go in there personally to get her, but Vayne—. "Can't you go?" Vayne asked, trying his best to work the note of pleading out of his voice. "I mean, I would go get her but I'm—uh—I'm really busy at the—."

Clark glanced at the people coming in from the door and then back at Vayne, the strain in his eyes clear from behind his glasses. "Come on, Vayne," he said, keeping his voice low so that the customers couldn't hear it. "Please?"

Vayne stared at Clark, curling his hands into fists, but he already knew it would be no use. His meister looked about ready to crack, and guilt warred with his fear until it won. He exhaled all at once, forcing his fingers to go slack.

"Alright," he said. "Okay. I'll go find her. I mean, how hard can it be? It's just a haunted house, right?"

Clark let out a relieved sigh. "Thank you," he said, then swept past Vayne, heading for the line. "Sorry, excuse me."

That left Vayne alone with the haunted house. He shuffled up to the entrance, peering into the darkness beyond, and suddenly didn't feel so sure of himself. He glanced over his shoulder at Clark, but his meister was already greeting a new group of people with that same gracious smile on his face, gesturing them over to a set of tables. A scream rose up from somewhere inside the haunted house, setting Vayne's hair on end.

 _Come on, Vayne,_ he told himself. _Man up. It's just a haunted house. You can do this._

He took a deep breath, gathering up as much courage as he could with the motion, and then stepped into the house.

* * *

" _Aaaaah!"_ Vayne screamed, running down the hallway at full-tilt before bursting into a brightly-lit room. "It's going to eat me!" He took cover underneath what looked like an examination table, covering his head with his hands. After a moment, a figure approached the table, peeking underneath it. Vayne squeaked and jumped back, moving his hands to cover his eyes.

"Oh, hey Vayne," said Jonas, nonchalantly. "Thought you were part of the next group and got really confused, since Gav said he was still leading them through the cemetery."

"J-Jonas?" Vayne asked, peeking from between his fingers.

He blinked and lowered his hands, realizing that Jonas's costume didn't actually scare him. The smaller boy was dressed in a white lab coat and a dark sweater, a pair of oversized glasses on his face and his hair whitened with baby powder. If anything, his costume looked familiar. Vayne stared, then felt another chill that had nothing to do with the haunted house.

"Jonas," Vayne said. "Don't tell me you actually dressed up as Professor Stein."

"Noooo," said Jonas, drawing out the word in the sort of way that people who had something to hide did. "No, don't be silly. That would be stupid. I'm just a mad scientist. You know, 'It's so coooool!'. What am I talking about? You don't watch anime. Uh—here, let me help you up."

He extended a hand towards Vayne. The weapon hesitated, then reluctantly took it, letting the other boy pull him up to his feet.

"This isn't so bad," said Vayne, looking around the room. It looked just like any ordinary laboratory might have, and thankfully Vayne didn't find labs scary. Yet.

"Not yet," said Jonas, grinning. "But do you wanna see what I can do with the lighting?" He reached for a button.

"No!" said Vayne, a little too quickly. "Uh—I mean, no. You don't have to. I'm—uh—just passing through."

"Aww," said Jonas, reluctantly pulling his hand away. He pouted. "Fine. At least let me show you one of the tricks Professor Stein taught me. It's not scary at all, I promise."

"Well…" Vayne weighed his options. On one hand, every minute spent wasting time here was a minute during which Rei and Ayame's next fight might start, with no one in the stands to cheer for them. On the other hand, every minute spent in here was a minute _not_ spent dodging the horrors that waited outside. "Sure, why not?"

Jonas grinned, walking over to a workbench filled with brightly colored vials of chemicals and poring through a stack of printed sheets that someone, probably Stein himself had given him. "Let's see here…" he said. "I add a little bit of this to a little bit of that, and…"

The room began filling with fog, mist spilling from the vial in Jonas's hands and pooling ankle deep at Vayne's feet. Vayne glanced down at it as it began to rise up, impressed in spite of himself. "Hey," he said. "That's pretty neat. You'll have to teach me that some—."

Something behind him cleared its throat. Vayne froze and whirled around sharply, jumping back as a dark shape in the fog resolved itself.

" _Aaah!"_ he shouted, his arms transforming into dark blades as he pointed them at the creature, squeezing his eyes shut and turning away. "WITCH!"

Morgan, dressed in a violet and cream corseted dress and a black witch's hat, was decidedly not amused. "Vayne, it's me," she said, her eyes narrowed at him.

Vayne opened his eyes a crack, the tips of his blades trembling. "M-M-Morgan?" he asked.

"Yes," said Morgan, exasperated. She rested her hands lightly on her hips. "I'm dressed as the witch from the story, remember? The one who 'trapped people' in the haunted house? You helped _write_ that story."

"Oh," said Vayne, relaxing slightly. "R-Right. Sorry about that." He straightened up, his arms becoming normal again. "Uh…so what are you doing here?"

"Lydia said you were looking for me," Morgan said, frowning at him. "After she told me how you beat her with your shoe and ran off screaming something about demons." She glanced down at his feet. "I'm surprised you actually took your shoe off to do it."

Vayne followed her gaze, looking down at his feet, one in a shoe and one in a sock. He looked back up at her guiltily. "She jumped out of a wall at me," he said.

"She stepped out of her _hiding place_ to ask you what was going on," Morgan said. "A hiding place that _you_ helped build." Morgan sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose with her hand and looking away. "Never mind. What do you want?"

"Um…Rei and Ayame advanced to the second round. Clark says you can go take a break if you want to watch the fights. He can't right now."

"Alright," said Morgan. "Fine. Thanks for letting me know. Next time, please tell Clark to send literally _anyone else_. I'll head out now."

"Great," said Vayne, rubbing at the back of his neck as Morgan stepped past him, walking towards the exit. "Um—and Morgan?"

" _Yes_ ," said Morgan without looking back, her tone sharp. "You can come with me."

* * *

Angela smiled to herself as she walked past the brightly colored booths that were set up just behind the school, a particularly loud thud ringing through the air as someone was slammed to the ground in the tournament match going on in the grass field nearby. She walked with her hands clasped behind her back, feeling a thrill at being on familiar ground again, around the students and staff of the DWMA. She always liked coming back to Death City, especially after extended assignments. The place always felt like home.

A group of students raced by, cotton candy and snacks in hand as they ran towards the colosseum. Angela stepped aside, letting them through. Her mind automatically replaced them with herself and Shelley when they were younger, their friends as two shadowed figures racing along behind them.

"Doesn't it bring back memories?" she asked, glancing at her partner behind her.

Shelley didn't respond immediately, following the students' movements with her eyes, and Angela felt a sudden surge of guilt. Of course her partner wouldn't want to be reminded of their days at the DWMA, especially not after the incident with Micah a year ago. Honestly, for a diplomat, she could be so insensitive sometimes.

"Shell…?" Angela asked, frowning in concern.

Shelley said nothing for a moment and then she blinked, some of the darkness retreating from her gold eyes. "It's nothing," she said, looking away from the students. "I'm fine."

"But—" Angela began.

"I said I was fine," Shelley snapped. "Please, can we just not talk about it?"

"I—." Angela opened her mouth helplessly, then closed again. "Alright," she said, sighing. "If that's what you want."

"It is," said Shelley.

"I'm going to go get some funnel cake," said Angela, pointing at the vendor not too far from them. "Do you want some?"

"Yes," said Shelley with a sigh. To Angela's relief, she relaxed just a little, some of the tension leaving her shoulders and back. "That would be nice."

"Alright," she said, turning towards the vendor. "Just wait right here, and I'll—." She stopped, turning her head as she caught sight of something out of the corner of her eye. A girl dressed in dark violet, wearing a pointed hat. Dark hair and pale skin. Dark eyes. "Shell?" she asked as the girl swept past her, joining the crowd headed towards the colosseum.

Shelley turned to watch the girl as well, adjusting her glasses with one hand. "A student of Class Moonless Night, probably," she said. "My mother mentioned that they were doing a haunted house for Halloween. Her Soul Response seems entirely normal."

Angela frowned at that. 'Seems'. 'Seems' could mean a lot of things. But she didn't want to worry Shelley with what could be nothing, considering everything her partner had been through lately. So instead she sighed, looking away from the girl but keeping her in her periphery. "They're still doing witch costumes at haunted houses?" Angela asked. "That's offensive, you know."

"I'm sure they didn't mean it that way," said Shelley. "You could talk to them if you like."

"No, it's alright," said Angela, affecting a tired smile. "You know how it is. No one likes a diplomat."

Shelley gave her a wry smile in response, one that didn't reach her eyes. It didn't make Angela feel better about her partner's state of mind, but she knew better than to press that particular subject now. "So about those funnel cakes," she said, turning back to the stall. "Wait right here."

She started walking, keeping the dark-haired girl in her sight until she was far enough away from Shelley that her partner couldn't see her too well through the crowd. Keeping her back turned towards the weapon, she touched her hat, tilting it back as if adjusting it but actually lifting it just enough to allow Pascal to slip out from underneath it, the chameleon dropping to the ground at her feet.

Angela fixed the girl's face in her mind, transferring it to Pascal as best as she could, then nudged the chameleon in the girl's direction with her foot. "Go on, Pascal" she said, keeping her voice to a whisper. "Track."

Pascal blinked up at her, then scurried off into the crowd after the girl, taking on the colors of his surroundings until he was invisible. Angela sighed, brushing her hair out of her face as if she had only been adjusting her hat, and turned to the funnel cake vendor with a smile.

"Two funnel cakes, please," she said.

* * *

"You _lost_?" Grayson asked, incredulous. "How could you _lose_?"

Xiaoying stared at him as he strode up to her, he and Richard fresh off the field from their victory in the semi-finals. A pair of NOT students were already at work taking down the ropes that had cordoned off the grass fields from the rest of the festival, the sun already beginning to fall asleep as the crowd slowly began approaching the colosseum for the finals. She met Grayson's eyes, her own gaze steady.

"Turns out they weren't as weak as you said they were," she said.

Grayson's eyes narrowed dangerously. "What are you implying, Xiao?" he asked, stepping closer to her.

"I'm not implying anything," said Xiaoying. "So back off. You don't scare me."

"Ugh, if you could do one goddamned thing right in your life, Xiao—." Grayson began.

"Hey!" Seth stepped up, putting himself between Xiaoying and Grayson and glaring at the other boy. "You don't get to talk to my meister like that."

Grayson glared back, meeting Seth's eyes. The weapon didn't back down, didn't flinch, but the wind around him began to pick up, threaded through with the first touches of heat. Richard stepped forward, placing a hand on Grayson's arm.

"Hey, come on," he said. "Calm down. This isn't worth it."

Grayson held Seth's gaze for a few moments longer before he took a step back, scowling as he looked away. The screens displaying the bracket flashed as the colosseum's semi-final match ended. He spared them a glance. Rei Evans and Ayame Star. Somehow the Evans kid and the Star brat had made it to the finals.

Ayame Star's eyes flashed into his mind again from the first day of class, the time he encountered her and her sorry excuse for a meister on their way to the dispensary. There had been something in those eyes, something fierce that had stopped him cold for an instant. He scowled, not liking the feeling or even the memory of it.

He was strong, the strongest student in the school. He _wasn't_ scared of that girl. And he definitely wasn't scared of what Evans became when he was with her.

"Fine," he said, turning away. "Whatever. It doesn't matter. We're just gonna crush them in the finals anyway. Come on, Rich."

Grayson walked towards the colosseum with the crowd, not sparing Xiaoying or her partner a second glance. Richard eyed Xiaoying and Seth for a moment before nodding, turning to follow him.

* * *

Rei sat on the bench beneath the stands in the colosseum in the last few minutes before the finals began. He stared down at his hands, thinking back to the day's first match, the one with Xiaoying and Seth.

"You fought well," Xiaoying had said on the field, in the moments after their match had ended.

"Thank you," Rei said, still out of breath as he nodded at her. "You fought well too. It was close."

"Yes, it was," said Xiaoying. "I may have misjudged you. It won't be enough to beat Grayson, though. I'm almost sorry about that…"

He clenched his fists, feeling his heart pounding. Despite being the first, that match had been his hardest match of the day, but he knew that wouldn't last long. He had seen Grayson and Richard's last tournament win and the memory of it nearly destroyed whatever confidence he had managed to gain.

Nearly. Because despite his own misgivings, despite everything he hadn't been sure of when they started, they'd made it this far. And he knew Ayame wanted to win. He knew it meant a lot to her. He drew in a breath, slowly relaxing as he straightened up. He could do this, he thought. Probably. Maybe.

" _Five more minutes until the Death Festival Tournament final match,"_ a female voice said over the P.A. system. _"Fighters, return to the colosseum."_

He could hear the crowd already, an almost subliminal hum coming from the stands above him. Rei took a deep breath to calm his nerves, trying to imagine that he was somewhere else, anywhere else.

 _Just another match,_ he told himself, even as his brain fed him memories of all of the times Grayson and Richard had picked on him since first coming to this school. That time two years ago when they'd tossed the book he was reading into the toilet and laughed at him when he yelled at them for it. Or that time last year when they'd teased him for coming here with his mother and held him against the wall when he threatened to complain. He never did. He felt his heart rate increase just at the memory.

_Just another match…_

A hand landed on his shoulder, a presence dropping into the seat beside him. This time, Rei didn't jump, just accepted the bottle of water Ayame had passed him and took a sip as if it could calm his nerves. She didn't say anything to him, watching the tunnel that led out into the arena, drinking her own water.

"Everyone's here," Ayame said after a while. "Vayne, Morgan, Cassie. Even Clark. I don't know whose running the booth right now, because they all came out here to cheer for us."

"Really?" Rei asked, capping his water bottle.

"Yeah," Ayame said.

"Then I guess we shouldn't let them down." He exhaled, setting his bottle of water aside. Somewhere over his head, the announcer gave the one minute warning.

"We can do this, can't we, Ayame?" he asked.

"Yeah," Ayame said. "We can do this."

"Alright." He took note of the confidence in her voice, tried to convince himself that he felt it too. He took a deep breath and got to his feet, extending a hand towards her. "Then let's give them a show."

She smiled at him, taking his hand and letting her help him up. "You got it," she said. "The people are gonna want to see their queen, after all."

They stepped forward as the announcer called them, walking into the light.

And stopped as an explosion rang out through the air, the shockwaves rattling the arena as alarms started blaring.

* * *

_Two minutes earlier…_

Somewhere in the depths of Class Moonless Night's haunted house, in the last hour before the house closed its doors for good, one Jonas Kosir, one-star meister and all around jokester had an idea. An idea to close the haunted house with a bang. If two or three chemicals could make a scary effect, he thought, looking with glee at the various brightly colored vials Stein had allowed him to use, what would happen if he mixed _all_ of them? Like a _true_ mad scientist would do.

He reached for two of the nearest vials, pouring them into a beaker without checking the recipes first. To that, he added a third—

"…Oh, son of a bitch."

The beaker flashed white, the explosion catching him off-guard as the shockwave threw him back, slamming him into the makeshift walls and expanding to consume the dojo. Someone started screaming as the wave of light tore through the ceiling, roof tiles and plaster clattering down to the ground in its wake.

He stared up at the hazy night sky through the hole where the roof had been, smiling bemusedly to himself as he lay there in the wreckage, the sprinkler systems engaging around him and alarms blaring.

 _Huh, that's funny…_ he thought, his vision swimming.

_I wonder what happened to the ceiling…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seth's weapon form is based off of the wind and fire wheels, a pair of Chinese weapons that ordinarily come in…well, pairs, but in this case because Seth is a lone weapon, they've been merged into one.
> 
> Don't worry, the fight will happen. There just might be…complications~ Next chapter will explain it, I promise!
> 
> Don't mix random chemicals you guys. It's not good for you. Trust me. I am mad scientist. It's so cooooool.


	11. Death Fest Pt. 3; A Lesson in Unkindness

**CHAPTER TEN**

**Death Fest Pt. 3; A Lesson in Unkindness**

* * *

The explosion rocked the stands, light flashing in the direction of the main building as several people stood up, alarmed voices filling the air as they turned in the direction of the blast. Somewhere in the colosseum's stands, Clark Greysteil slumped over, lowering his head into his hands. He pushed his glasses up with them, pressing his palms against his eyelids and letting out an exhausted sigh.

"Someone please tell me that wasn't the dojo," he muttered.

"Um…alright," said Vayne, already standing up and looking in that direction. "I—uh— _could_ tell you that…"

"It looks like some kind of chemical blast," said Morgan, squinting to get a better view.

"Whoa, look at all those terrified people!" said Cassie, pointing.

Clark groaned, sinking down deeper. Two rows in front of him, Stein and Mifune stood up at the same time, exchanging a glance and a nod before striding purposefully in the direction of the exits, both of them wearing matching cold expressions that suggested a very bad time for whoever it was they managed to find. Clark knew that as class representative, he should be getting up to assist in whatever way he could, but he didn't really want to get up right now. A part of him hoped that if he closed his eyes long enough, the problem would just go away.

No such luck. Confusion reigned for a few moments, Rei, Ayame, Richard and Grayson blinking confusedly up at the crowd from the arena below, and then Shinigami-sama picked up a microphone and walked out onto a balcony, his voice ringing through the colosseum speakers.

"There appears to have been an incident in the main building," he said, his voice coolly professional. "While nobody appears to have been seriously injured, as a precaution, I would like to ask everyone not affiliated with the DWMA to leave the premises in a calm and orderly manner. Students in the N.O.T. class are asked to return to their dorms until further notice. E.A.T. students, please find your homeroom teachers and await further instructions. In light of this difficulty, the tournament finals are rescheduled for 8:00 AM tomorrow morning. I apologize for the inconvenience. Thank you for understanding."

He walked off the stage, passing the microphone to one of his weapons without a word. Clark looked up from where he had his head in his hands, wondering if it was just his imagination, or if Shinigami-sama _also_ looked like he was on the verge of a meltdown. The shinigami's shoulders twitched as he disappeared into the privacy of a corridor, Patty moving to follow him. Liz looked over her shoulder to watch them, a concerned look on her face before she cleared her voice and spoke into the microphone.

"Um—ahem. Class Moonless Night, meet with Maka Evans-sensei in Section C of the colosseum seating area. Class Crescent Moon, meet with Professor Franken Stein in the dojo…"

* * *

" _My schoooooll…"_ Shinigami groaned, sitting curled up against the wall in a dark corner of the main building, his head in his hands as Liz, Patty, Maka and Soul stood around him. "It's asymmetrical garbage. How could I let this _happen_? What would Father say?"

Soul shrugged, one hand on the back of his neck. "I don't know. Probably 'Hi, hey, wassup, that sure is a big hole, isn't it?' or something like that."

" _Soul!"_ said Maka, elbowing him sharply in the ribs as Shinigami let out a fresh wail.

"Ow!" said Soul. "What was _that_ for?"

Rei pretended not to see, turning away. Somewhere off to the right, a disoriented and soot-covered Jonas was _still_ facing down an angry Mifune and Stein, the wreckage of the dojo (and Stein's lab equipment by extension) still around him. Now that it was clear that nobody had been trapped in the dojo by the blast, the majority of the clean-up and repairs would be happening tomorrow, which Rei was grateful for. He was also grateful that he wasn't currently in Jonas's shoes, though. Shinigami's reaction to Stein and Mifune asking to be placed in charge of Jonas's 'remedial lessons' was more or less 'do what you want'.

The school had quieted down in the two hours since the explosion, most of the crowd being Death City residents that didn't do much more than shake their heads and head home when strange things happened at the school. Clark's family had made a few phone calls, ones that Clark had tried to answer in an increasingly exhausted voice for the first hour before he finally gave up and turned his phone off.

Now, a stillness hung over the place, a hush that hadn't been there since the doors first opened this morning. It was strange. It felt almost like the Death Festival should be over, except it wasn't, not really. Tomorrow morning, he and Ayame would be coming back here, and he would have to go through that whole getting himself ready to fight Grayson and Richard all over again.

But that would be tomorrow. Tonight, he felt tired and oddly pleased with himself, despite the fact that there was a hole in the dojo ceiling and he hadn't finished with the tournament yet. It was a good feeling, not pride, not quite, but he felt good about what he had done today.

He turned away from studying the dojo, looking back at his friends. They stood clustered together behind him, varying levels of exhaustion on their faces. The staff had enlisted the students' help to clean up after the explosion, and while the blast hadn't been as bad as it had initially looked, some of the Class Moonless Night students had been running all day. Clark in particular looked about ready to drop. Ayame was speaking, and he realized he had tuned back in in the middle of a conversation.

"I'm _starving_ ," Ayame said. "We should go grab something to eat."

"Pizza?" Cassie asked. She was still dressed all in black from her role as a backstage worker in the haunted house, flitting from room to room before each group and using her illusions to set the scene. "There's a place open near our apartment that's open late. It's pretty cheap too."

"I could really go for some pizza right now," said Vayne, rubbing at a crick in his neck. "Clark?"

Clark looked up suddenly, his eyelids drooping as if he was about to sleep. "Huh?" he asked. "What? Oh—pizza. Uh…sure."

"You sure, man?" asked Vayne, frowning in concern. "I mean, if you want to head home…"

"No, no." Clark shook his head stubbornly, taking a deep breath and straightening up by sheer force of will. "I'm alright. Don't worry about me." He gave Cassie a tired smile. "Pizza sounds wonderful, Cassie, especially with someone as lovely as you are."

But Cassie was already turned away from Clark, stepping forward towards the ruins of the haunted house. "I wonder where Morgan is," she said out loud. "I'm going to go look for her. Don't leave without us."

She stepped forward, moving lightly around Stein and Mifune and, Rei noticed, also studiously ignoring Shinigami's meltdown as she disappeared into the wreckage. Clark slumped forward, looking crestfallen, and Vayne reluctantly patted him on the shoulder.

"There, there."

"So," Ayame said, and Rei noticed that this time she was talking to him, a grin on her face. "Pizza?"

Rei thought about it. He was hungry, yes, practically starving, but he was also bone tired and there was plenty of food at home. As much as he liked hanging out with the others, he had to admit, the prospect of having the apartment all to himself for a few hours was tempting. He decided to take it.

"Thanks," he said. "But I'm wiped. I think I'm just gonna head home."

Ayame's face fell slightly at that. "Aw, alright," she said. "But tomorrow, after we win…"

Rei figured he could give her that. "Yeah," he said, offering her a smile. "We'll celebrate then."

"Great," said Vayne, stretching. "So we just wait for Morgan and Cassie to get back out here and then we can head out. You heading back now, Rei?"

Rei shrugged. "Might as well," he said.

"Uh—wait a minute," Ayame said, stepping forward. "Can we talk for a second?"

Rei blinked at her, confused. "Sure, Ayame," he said. "What's up?"

She paused, shooting Vayne a furtive glance, then reached out and grabbed his wrist, guiding him back down the hall. That surprised him, and Rei couldn't help but glance back at Vayne and Clark as Ayame pulled him forward. Clark was staring down at the ground, dead to the world, but Vayne was grinning, his fingers laced together at the back of his neck as he turned away. He started whistling.

Rei couldn't help it. He felt the heat rise to his face as Ayame stopped at the end of the hallway, well out of earshot of Vayne, or the Jonas-Mifune-Stein disaster, or the people around Shinigami.

"What's up?" he asked as Ayame released his arm. She didn't look up at him immediately and his heart rate sped up of its own accord. His tie felt uncomfortably tight, and he resisted the urge to loosen it.

Ayame didn't meet his eyes and he thought—he hoped he wasn't imagining this, although he didn't know what it could mean—that there was a flush on her cheeks as well. It was difficult to tell in this light. One of her hands, the one that hadn't grabbed him, was clenched tightly into a fist.

"I was gonna give this to you after the finals tonight," she said, "You know, after we won and all that…but the fights got rescheduled and I figured now was as good a time as any, and…"

She held her hand out in front of her and opened it, still not meeting his eyes. Inside it was a small pin, the sort he could fix to his collar, or his tie, or the lapel of his uniform jacket. It was in the shape of a gold five-pointed star.

"Because we're partners, you know," Ayame said, clearly feeling like someone explanation was warranted. "When my mom and dad were in school, my mom wore a lot of little star things too. Not that I'm saying we're gonna be like my mom and dad—," she added hastily, her eyes widening as she looked up at him. Her flush deepened, becoming noticeable even in this light. "—because I'm not saying that at _all,_ but just—we're partners."

Her eyes dropped from his at that last statement and she fell silent, the star held between them.

Rei exhaled, feeling something tighten up inside of him, his heart or his throat or somewhere that wasn't actually physical, something he didn't quite understand. He reached out, his fingertips brushing her palm lightly as he picked up the pin, holding it carefully in his hand.

"Thanks, Ayame," he said, fixing it to his uniform jacket. He didn't know what else to say. "It…uh…means a lot."

"Really?" Ayame asked, looking up at him now, meeting his eyes again. "You don't think it's weird?"

"No," said Rei. "I mean, we're partners, right?"

She blinked and then smiled. "Yeah, she said. "We are." Her smile was brilliant, the sort of smile that made her eyes light up, and Rei had to look away, his tie feeling uncomfortably tight again. Her eyes were violet, he realized, a deep violet like the irises she was named for, and he wondered how he ever thought they were gray.

He cleared his throat, looking back at Vayne. Vayne was watching them without making it look like he was watching them, but there was a smirk on his face that told Rei he'd be in for it as soon as he came back within earshot. He wasn't honestly sure he could deal with Vayne teasing him now, so he looked back at Ayame. "I'm—uh—gonna head out," he said. "See you later?"

"Yeah," said Ayame. "Don't wait up, though. Get some sleep."

"I'll try," he said. "No promises, though," he added with a smile.

She shoved him playfully, then turned, walking back towards Vayne and Clark. Rei ducked his head to hide his smile as he walked away, reaching up to touch the place where the little star pin gleamed in the lamplight. He walked down the stairs that led away from the main building, disappearing into the night.

* * *

"I don't understand how we could possibly get lost in a haunted house we made ourselves," Morgan said, her nose wrinkling up in distaste as she walked around several scorched and soaked pieces of paper that had once been banners and had now been dragged out into the main hallway and left there. "A ruined one at that."

"Well, I was following you," said Cassie, walking beside her as they stepped out of the exit and into the night air. Just not apparently the same exit that they had walked in through. Their route through what was left of the dojo had taken them out the small fire door in the back of the room, into one of DWMA's smaller corridors, then back through the main building until things started looking familiar again and they had found an exit.

Morgan looked back at her partner incredulously. "I was following _you_ ," she said.

"Well, there's your problem," said Cassie. "Morgan sweetie, you know I'm not always paying attention."

"Never mind," said Morgan, shaking her head and stepping out through the doors into the courtyard. She swept her hat off her head and held it in her hand, glad to be rid of it. She wasn't sure she would breathe right until she was out of this dress, and not just because of the corset. "Let's just find the others before they leave without us. And if we're going to that place anyway, let's stop by the flat. I want to change."

"But Morgan, it's Halloween," said Cassie. "And you look beautiful—."

She cut off suddenly as Morgan stopped at the top of the stairs, holding her hand up for silence. From where she stood, at the top of the main steps, she could see Rei walking off of the DWMA's grounds, his hands in the pockets of his jacket as he disappeared into the city, but that wasn't specifically what had caught her attention. It was Grayson and Richard, loitering in the shadows of one of the buildings closest to the stairs, the way they peeled out of the shadows to follow Rei.

She didn't like the look of that.

"Morgan?" Cassie asked, looking back at her with some concern.

Morgan frowned, her eyes on Grayson and Richard's retreating backs. "It's nothing," she said, shaking her head at Cassie. "Let's find the others."

"Okay," Cassie said, stepping forward. "I think they were over here…Oh, this is taking too long. _A line appeared on the ground, connecting Cassie and Morgan with Vayne, Clark, and Ayame._ "

A glowing white line stretched outwards from Cassie, spreading across the ground. The grimoire hummed as she followed it, walking alongside it with a proud look on her face. Morgan followed her, but paused as Cassie moved ahead to look back at Death City stretched in front of her. At Rei, not visible now, and at Grayson and Richard, who were still tailing him.

She reached out with a thought, feeling for the presences that were still waiting there, that had been waiting there since she arrived at Death City.

Somewhere on the rooftops of Death City, an unkindness of ravens took flight, dark wings rising into the night.

* * *

It was about twenty more minutes before Soul came to the realization that this was going to be one of Kid's extended freak outs, and Liz and Patty managed to pack him up and escort him home. He walked back from the staff lounge to where Maka was waiting, thankful that the Thompson sisters were _still_ around after all these years to babysit Kid. He wasn't sure he could have handled it without snapping. He passed one of the little paper cups of coffee he was holding to his partner—fifteen years and three kids and it still felt odd calling her his wife, because they were so much more than that—and leaned against a pillar, taking a sip of his own cup. It was awful instant DWMA coffee, but there wasn't much more available in this part of town at ten o'clock at night.

She nodded in thanks, holding her cup in both hands and leaning against the pillar opposite his. The school was quiet now, most of the students having gone home, but since there was still work being done, it looked like neither of them were going to be able to leave. Soul because as Death Scythe he was _technically_ in command when Kid wasn't around to give instructions and Maka because he'd never really known her to be able to go home when other people were still working—at least not without worrying about it all night and not getting any sleep anyway.

He didn't really mind, though. Spirit had taken Annie and Cori home hours ago, almost as soon as the finals had been cancelled. The school was quiet now, the kids were probably in bed, nobody was attacking anybody (which had, even after over two decades of relative peace, been Soul's first thought the moment the explosion struck and he and Maka had both dived down into the space between the bleachers, each of them pulling one of the twins under themselves without having to tell the other to do it), and the problem would probably be cleared up in about a week (it wasn't like DWMA wasn't used to students tearing things apart).

He took another sip of his coffee, raising his cup to Maka, who looked preoccupied as usual, and smiled. "Nice night," he said, taking a sip.

Maka smiled at him over her cup of coffee, steam rising from the opening in the plastic lid. "Are you still trying to sound cool?" she asked. Soul frowned, because he didn't think he needed to _try_ , but Maka simply raised a hand to her mouth and giggled, gesturing with her cup. "You have plaster and soot all over your jacket."

Soul looked down at himself in dismay, tugging at his collar. "Just had to ruin it for me, didn't you?" he asked as he took a sip, but he wasn't really mad. Not if it was Maka and she was smiling at him like that.

Maka smiled, raising her cup to her lips with both hands and taking a sip. Soul let his attention wander as he looked out over the courtyard, then looked back at her as he noticed Ayame and Vayne walking down the steps, Morgan, Clark and Cassie with them but not Rei. "All your kids accounted for?" he asked, meaning her students in this case. He at least knew Rei hadn't been anywhere near the blast.

"They're all alright," Maka said. "A few are a little shaken up, but they're more annoyed than anything. I don't know if Jonas is going to be alright though." She frowned back in the direction of the haunted house, where the conference was still going on.

"He'll be fine," Soul said. "Black Star managed to survive till graduation."

"Yeah," Maka said. "But you know, Black Star."

"True," said Soul. He looked past Maka at the ruin of the dojo, then raised his cup towards her. "To DWMA brats," he said.

"May they never change," said Maka with a tired smile, touching her disposable coffee cup to his. She took a sip of her coffee at the same time as he did.

"You hear from your dad yet?" Soul asked after a while as they stood there in the silence, watching the moon.

"A little while ago," said Maka. "He texted to say that the girls are in bed."

"Feels weird, doesn't it?" Soul asked. "Only having to worry about the twins?"

"A little," Maka admitted. "I'm sure Rei is fine, though. You saw him today."

"Yeah," said Soul, feeling a touch of pride as he looked up at the sky. "The kid's growing up."

"Yeah," Maka added. "He is."

Soul wasn't sure what alerted him to the change, probably the ease of long familiarity, but he knew something was wrong before Maka even spoke, knew it in the way she suddenly went still. He looked over at her, frowning, but she wasn't looking at him. She was looking out at the city, her eyes wide and distant in a way that told him she was using her Soul Perception, easily one of the best in the DWMA at this point.

"Maka?" Soul asked, feeling a chill, because he couldn't help but feel a little scared whenever Maka was so obviously afraid.

Maka didn't respond, but all the color drained from her face, her coffee spilling from nerveless fingers as it crashed to the ground.

* * *

It was almost 10:30 by the time Rei left the school and started walking through Death City, and the streets on the way back to his apartment were quiet, not quite deserted but very nearly there. He walked with his hands in his pockets—the coming of autumn always brought a chill at night—and thought about the fact that he had been living in this city for all of his life, that his mother before him had done pretty much the same thing. There were days when that thought frustrated him, days when he thought he wanted to get away, but tonight the thought just left him with an odd feeling of peace.

He made the turn to his parents' house by mistake, got a few feet down the road before he realized that he didn't live there anymore, stopped and turned around. He wondered who was watching the twins at this hour and realized that it was probably Spirit, since both of his parents had been at the DWMA when he left them. Rei thought about stopping by, but decided against it. He hadn't been lying when he said to Ayame that he was tired, and Annie and Cori would probably be asleep by now anyway. He found the path that led to his apartment and started walking down it, reaching up and touching the star pinned to his jacket to make sure that it was still there.

He had made it a couple more blocks before he first realized that something was wrong.

Rei drew to a stop, feeling a chill wash over him that had nothing to do with the cold. He was standing on a somewhat deserted street corner, the only light coming from the streetlight just over his head and the convenience store open across the street. There wasn't anyone around him that he could see, but when he closed his eyes briefly and activated his Soul Perception, he felt it. Two presences lingering somewhere behind him. He turned and caught sight of Grayson and Richard, skulking in a nearby alley.

Grayson blinked as Rei met his eyes, apparently surprised at having been caught. Richard slunk along behind him, looking strangely guilty in the dim light from the streetlamp. Rei felt a flash of fear, and then as soon as it had come, it was replaced by anger. What _was_ Grayson doing, following him in the middle of the night?

"Can I help you?" he asked. The cold tone his voice adopted surprised even him.

Grayson stared at him and then recovered, drawing himself up to his full height and puffing up his chest in a gesture that reminded Rei very much of a gorilla. He scowled at Rei, striding over to him. Rei had to fight the urge to step back, but it occurred to him that he wasn't really _afraid_ , not the way he once had been. He was nervous, because he knew that his chances didn't look good. He was unarmed and he was _really_ starting to wish that he had stayed with Ayame, but now that he thought about it, this was just pathetic. Sneaking around in the dead of night? And for what?

"Yeah, you can help me," Grayson said, drawing to a stop just a little too close.

He towered over Rei, and Rei caught himself bending his knees slightly, getting ready to move in case he had to. He glanced left and right, but there was still nobody on the street, no Soul Responses except the ones safe in their beds. He could run to either side of him and _maybe_ get away from Grayson and Richard, but he stood his ground instead, meeting Grayson's eyes.

"We need to talk, Evans," the older boy said, jerking his head in the direction of the alley. "Back there."

_I don't think so,_ Rei thought, eyeing the alleyway. "Whatever you want to say to me, you can say here," he said.

Grayson scowled at him, inching closer, and there was a moment where Rei was sure the other boy would grab him and drag him into the alley, but instead Grayson just glared at him, and Rei held his ground.

"Fine," he said, after a while. "Have it your way. See, here's the thing. _Somehow,_ you and little miss Star found your way into the finals."

_Yeah. And water is wet._ Rei glared at him, waiting for him to continue, but Grayson apparently felt that some response from him was expected. "If you want to talk about that," he said. "We'll have plenty of time tomorrow."

"Yeah," said Grayson. "Here's the thing about that. That match tomorrow? I'd rather it didn't happen."

Something cold dropped into Rei's stomach at that, understanding striking him. Grayson glared at him, a promise of pain in his eyes, and that made Rei afraid, but it also made him angrier. "I don't know what you mean," he said, his voice growing colder. His eyes darted back to the streets around him, half-hoping for Ayame or one of his friends to round the corner. No one came.

"I think you know exactly what I mean, Evans," said Grayson, taking a step closer towards him. "I want you to forfeit the match. Give up, and no one gets hurt."

He knew that that was what Grayson wanted, but it still surprised him to hear it spoken out loud. He gaped at Grayson, but the larger boy simply glared at him, as if he couldn't understand the irony in essentially saying _'I could beat you up at any time, but please forfeit the very public fight we're going to be having in a few hours.'_

" _Why_?" he asked. It was the only response he could muster, and it left him in a rush.

"Why?" Grayson asked, the intimidating mask he was wearing cracking as he took another step forward towards Rei. "Because I _own_ this school. Because I've owned it since I first set foot in it, and I don't care who your parents are or who your partner's parents are or whatever. I'm the strongest person in this school and that's not gonna change!" There was anger on his face now, something very close to pure rage. Rei blinked up at him with wide eyes, more confused than scared now.

"So what?" asked Rei, "If you're so convinced that you're the strongest, you'll prove it tomorrow."

"I can!" said Grayson, snarling at him. "I will. I can beat you and that little Star brat any day of the week, but on the off-chance that you pull something _stupid_ like you did with Xiao, on the off-chance that you get _lucky_ —." He shook his head. "I'm not risking that, Evans. Forfeit. Now."

Rei stared up at Grayson as the other boy loomed over him, meeting his eyes. He felt scared, he realized, but there was something in Grayson's eyes that he hadn't noticed before. Fear.

The realization floored him, because it was a complete reversal of everything he had known about Grayson so far, everything he had believed. Grayson was afraid of _him._ Grayson seriously thought he might win, otherwise why do this? Why come out all this way to threaten him to forfeit? His mind raced, putting the pieces together.

Grayson had _always_ been afraid of him. Otherwise why spend so much time trying to put him down?

The thought lent him strength, enough strength to straighten up and look Grayson in the eye.

"No."

Grayson's eyes widened and then narrowed, all in the same breath. He reached forward, grabbing Rei by his shirt. Rei reached up, trying to pull his hand free, but he held fast.

"What did you say?" Grayson asked, his tone dangerous.

"I said no."

The star glinted in the lamplight, reminding Rei of Ayame, reminding him of his promise to her, that he would compete in the tournament with her. He couldn't betray that, he realized. And he was done, he was so done letting a bully like Grayson run his life.

His eyes narrowed, meeting Grayson's, and he felt fire run through him, something that he hadn't felt since that night in the red house, when he was fighting the witch's ghost. Putting someone down because you were scared of them? How pathetically stupid was that? And how pathetically stupid had he been for going along with it for so long? "What are you going to do about it?" he asked.

Grayson stared at him, uncomprehending, and then something broke behind his eyes and the only thing Rei saw in them was fury. He clenched his free hand into a fist, swinging it at Rei's head.

Rei ducked, digging his thumbs into the sensitive webbing between Grayson's finger and thumb as he moved. Grayson let out a yelp of pain, releasing his hold on his shirt, and Rei quickly ducked to the side before Grayson could grab him again, twisting his body around and kicking at the back of Grayson's knee. Unarmed combat wasn't his thing, but he _had_ picked up a few things in Naigus's class, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration as Grayson's leg buckled, as he dropped to a knee with a cry of outrage. It felt good, not so much that he was fighting, but that he was fighting _back._

"I'll say it one more time," Rei said, circling back onto the sidewalk. "Back _off,_ Grayson."

Grayson picked himself up off the ground, the look he gave Rei so full of hatred and rage that he almost didn't look human anymore. He stretched out his hand towards his partner and said something that made Rei's blood run cold. "Richard."

Richard stared at him with wide eyes from the alley, looking between his partner and Rei. "Grayson," he said. "Come on, man. He's not worth it. He doesn't even have a weapon."

" _Richard,"_ said Grayson again, more forcefully.

"Gray, come on…" Richard said, a note of pleading in his voice. "This is taking it too far."

"Either you transform right this goddamn second, Richard, or you're next!" Grayson said, practically screaming it.

Richard blinked, then met Rei's eyes, his own expression helpless and apologetic. He shook his head, closing his eyes.

And then he transformed in a flash of light, becoming a gauntlet that covered Grayson's right arm up to his elbow, a mailed fist with ridged knuckles gleaming in the lamplight. Rei reached for a discarded glass bottle at his feet, holding it in his hand as he watched Grayson and Richard, his eyes narrowed and his heart beating fast. He'd inched towards it hoping that he could use it against Grayson if he had to, but it wouldn't help him at all in an unarmed fight against a meister and weapon. He knew that, but the other option was backing down. And for the second time in his life, that option sickened him more than anything else, more than losing, more than pain.

Grayson charged at him, screaming like an animal, and Rei moved just fast enough to bring the bottle down, breaking it over Grayson's head before Grayson's gauntlet hit him with the force of a train, slamming him into the stone wall behind him so hard that the world tilted on its axis.

He felt the first blow. He thankfully didn't feel any of the ones after that.

Later, when Grayson finally walked away, leaving him sprawled out on the street beneath the streetlight, disoriented and fading in and out of consciousness, he saw Richard transform beside Grayson in a flash of light, saw him give Rei a look that was nothing short of guilty. Grayson had something in his hand that made Rei feel angry, despite the fact that his vision was blurring at the edges and he was in too much pain to really feel much of anything at all.

The star. Ayame's star. He was tossing it up and down like it was a baseball, the pin gleaming in the light. His eyes narrowed and he reached forward, his hand trembling as he stretched it out in the space between them.

_Give that back…_ he wanted to say, but it came out as a gurgle instead. Richard was watching him, white as a sheet. He looked like he was going to throw up.

"Come on, Rich," Grayson was saying, walking away. "Let's get out of here."

"We're so dead," Richard muttered under his breath, turning away from Rei. "Shinigami's going to find out, and we're gonna be so dead…"

"Shut up, stupid. No one's finding out anything. Do you see any cameras around? Any witnesses…"

Their voices faded away, out of the range of Rei's hearing. Rei tried to turn onto his side—something about his position was making it hard to breathe—tried to reach for his phone, but his head spun.

The last thing he saw before he blacked out was a dark shape landing in front of him. A raven. It tilted its head inquisitively, letting out a soft ' _caw'._

 


	12. Death Fest Pt. 4; Stars Shining Like the Sun!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently Soul has the coolest head in this situation, hence most of the chapter being from his point of view. Who knew? Anyway, enjoy the end of the Tournament Arc. We'll have a bit of an aftermath/wrap-up next chapter and then on to the next thing.

* * *

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

**Death Fest Pt. 4; Stars Shining Like the Sun!**

* * *

Maka ran down the street at full-tilt, Soul following close behind her, her heart pounding and her mind still racing with the memory of what she had felt. They were standing just outside the DWMA, and Soul was talking about Rei, so she had tried, just idly, just out of curiosity, to see if she could find him in the tangle of souls that made up Death City, to see if she could find the Soul Response that was uniquely his.

And then suddenly she had, and it made her abandon everything and run.

Rei's Soul Response had always been difficult to find, a flicker of bright light that seemed to shrink back and try to hide if you looked directly at it, but it was weaker than she had ever felt it now, weaker than it had ever been. She tried to keep her mind clear and her breath steady as she ran, but her imagination was getting ahead of her, her mind feeding her horrible images of what could have happened to Rei, to her little boy, and fueling her onwards.

She ran as fast as she could and only stopped when she reached him, lying unconscious and sprawled beneath a streetlight, his hand outstretched and ravens perched on the ground around him.

"Rei," she said breathlessly, dropping to her knees beside her son. Her heart seized up as she turned him over— _oh please, oh please, oh please—_ and then relaxed ever so slightly as she caught the slow rise and fall of his chest, the flicker of his soul still attached to his body. Soul came to a stop beside her as she found her son's hand and tried to get a feel for his pulse, and she could feel his own soul, flaring up now in quietly restrained fury. He placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Maka, I've got him," he said. "Come on. We have to get him back."

Maka nodded numbly, allowing Soul to pull her hand off of Rei's, slowly getting to her feet.

* * *

The hours that followed were, if not the longest hours in Maka and Soul's life, the longest that they could remember in recent history. Soul carried Rei on his back, as gently as he could as they made their way back to the DWMA. From there, they found Stein, pulled him away from Jonas, and set Rei down on the examination table in the dispensary. Stein went to work, his expression grave, and Maka pulled up a chair and took Rei's hand between both of her own, unmoving.

Soul wanted to hit something, but he knew that wouldn't help, so instead he turned around, knowing that nothing short of the end of the world would move Maka right now, and pulled out his phone.

The first person he called was Spirit, and it was a testament to the gravity of the situation that Spirit didn't attempt to crack a joke or say anything stupid to get Soul riled up. Instead, he went silent on the other end of the line for a very long time, before asking Soul if he needed him to come over.

"No," Soul said, his voice sounding steadier than it had any right to be. "Stay with the girls. Don't wake them up." He glanced behind him at Maka, still terrified and worried, and at Stein, still working. "There's nothing for them to see here right now."

"Alright," Spirit said. "I'll do that."

"Thanks," Soul said, and he couldn't help but feel a little relieved that at least the twins were safe in bed and someone else was taking care of them tonight. He exhaled. "There's food in the fridge if you want it. You can bring them over tomorrow when they wake up."

"…Hang in there," was all Spirit said, and then the line went dead.

The next person to call was Kid, but he didn't call Kid immediately, remembering the state the Shinigami had been in. Instead, he sent Liz a text, explaining the situation and telling her to share it with Kid whenever she felt Kid was ready to hear it. That done, there was only one other person left to call.

He scrolled through his contacts, finding Ayame.

* * *

Ayame didn't answer her phone. Soul called her four more times, before giving up and leaving a message. A little less than an hour later, she burst in through the doors to the dispensary, eyes wide with worry.

"I'm sorry," she said, before Soul could say anything. "I was out with the others. I wasn't looking at my phone. I didn't know you called—oh God, Rei."

He stopped her before she could run forward, grabbing her by the shoulder to keep her in place. Stein looked up from where he was working, shooting them a dirty look. "If you can't be quiet, go outside," he said. "I'm busy."

Ayame opened her mouth to protest then quickly closed it, looking helplessly from Stein to Rei. The boy was still unconscious, his breathing labored, and Soul looked from Ayame, staring at Rei with wide eyes, to Maka, still seated unmoving by Rei's side. He tightened his grip on Ayame's shoulder, squeezing slightly to draw her attention.

"Come on," he said, inclining his head towards the hallway. "Let's wait outside."

* * *

"I should have been there," Ayame said, pacing back and forth in the darkened hallway outside the dispensary, her eyes wide. She occasionally stopped to shake out her hands, like she didn't know what to do with them. "I shouldn't have left him alone. I _knew_ Grayson and Richard were out to get him. Dammit! How could I leave?"

"You couldn't have known," Soul said, from where he was leaning against the wall, his arms folded. He felt suddenly, profoundly tired, but he still felt like he had to say something to Ayame, because he knew what it was like. "You had no reason to think they'd do anything like this."

"I'm going to kill them," said Ayame, turning on her heel and beginning to march for the door.

"No," said Soul. "You're not."

"Why _not?"_ Ayame asked, looking back at him. "You saw what they did to—to—." Her voice faltered, her breath hitching like she was close to tears. Her hands were clenched into fists at her side.

"We don't know what happened yet—," Soul began.

"—We _know_ what happened!" Ayame interrupted, slamming the side of her fist into the wall so hard that the building shook, a crater forming in the stone around her hand from the impact. He stared at her and she sucked in a breath, her fist beginning to shake as she dropped her eyes to the ground. "We know what happened. We know who did it."

"At least wait for Ki—Shinigami to make a decision before you go after them," said Soul, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Otherwise, what do you think is going to happen? You're just gonna get in trouble too."

Ayame looked up at him through a curtain of her hair, her violet eyes wide and gleaming. "I—," she began, but she never got to finish because the door of the dispensary opened and Maka stumbled out of it, looking very small. She had hands wrapped tight around herself, her eyes lowered.

He turned towards her and she collapsed against him before he could ask her anything, as if her feet could no longer bear her weight. Soul stared down at her, wide-eyed, his arm going up around her back automatically to support her as she leaned against his chest and let out a long, ragged exhale.

"Professor Stein asked me to leave," Maka said softly, in answer to a question he hadn't yet asked. "…He says he needs to do some surgery."

Soul looked across the room from him at Ayame, whose eyes had gone wide at those words. All the air seemed to leave her in a rush and she slumped down to the ground, sitting against the wall with her arms wrapped tightly around her legs. She rested her face on her knees, turning her head away from him. He thought she might be crying, but he couldn't be sure.

Maka didn't cry, but her shoulders shook as she closed her eyes and leaned into him. He sighed and leaned against the wall in the sudden silence of the hallway, his lips brushing the top of her head as he pulled her close.

They waited.

* * *

In the morning, Ayame slept curled up in an armchair in the corner of the dispensary, Soul's plaster-covered jacket draped over her. Soul and Maka sat at a small table set up by the window, watching Rei sleep. Stein had finished up a few hours earlier and had finally pronounced Rei stable, giving them instructions to let him wake up on his own and to call him when Rei was awake before packing up and leaving the dispensary. Marie had come by a little while ago with breakfast and coffee, and Soul and Maka had picked half-heartedly at the food as they ate. Kid was there now, leaning against the wall with his arms folded, his expression grave as he waited for the latest investigation to wrap up.

The worst was over now, but neither Maka nor Soul could bring themselves to leave, so they remained seated at the table, watching from the window as the sun rose over Death City and waiting.

At 7:45 in the morning, the door to the infirmary burst open, admitting Vayne. Ayame sat up, pushing Soul's jacket away and rubbing sleep out of her eyes as Morgan, Clark and Cassie filed in behind Vayne, looks of concern across all of their faces.

Morgan took one look at Rei, lying in the bed with his eyes closed and the blanket pulled up to his neck. Her eyes narrowed dangerously and she turned, striding out of the room. Cassie's eyes widened as she whipped around, moving to follow her partner.

"Wait!" Soul heard her say. "Morgan—!"

Their voices and footsteps faded down the hallway. He thought about going after her, to make sure that she wouldn't do anything drastic like Ayame, but it had been a long night and he was too tired. Instead he just watched, taking a sip of actually decent coffee, as Vayne stared at Rei in disbelief and then turned to face Kid.

"What are you going to do about this?" he asked.

Kid looked over at Vayne, his expression grave. "Unfortunately, the investigation didn't turn up any evidence. The security camera outside of the convenience store across the street was broken, and the only clerk on duty was listening to music and didn't hear anything."

"So we're not going to do _anything_?" Vayne asked. "We know who did it. It was that scumbag Grayson."

Kid looked pained. "We don't have any evidence for that—," he began.

"That's bullshit and you know it!" said Vayne.

Silence. Clark and Ayame stared at Vayne like he had grown a second head, Clark looking more than a little terrified as he looked between Vayne and Kid. Vayne stared at Kid and slowly the realization of what he had said and who he had said it to seemed to dawn on him. He drew in a deep breath, clenching his fists tightly and looking away.

"I apologize, Shinigami-sama," he said, offering Kid a deep bow before turning on his heel. "I'm going for a walk."

He stopped in front of Ayame's chair to squeeze her shoulder tightly, his eyes narrowed, then brushed past Clark, heading out the door while the other boy stood there, stunned. In the silence that followed, Soul swore he could have heard a pin drop. Then Kid sighed, letting out a deep breath and slumping against the wall.

"He's right, but we have rules for a _reason_ ," said Kid. "Until Rei wakes up and confirms who attacked him, there's nothing I can do except have them watched." He straightened up from the wall, adjusting his suit. "I'm going to go cancel the fight."

"No," said a small voice from the corner of the room. Soul looked over to see Ayame getting to her feet, her eyes shadowed by her hair.

Kid blinked. "No?" he repeated.

"No," said Ayame. She raised one hand to her shoulder where Vayne had touched her, her eyes narrowed as if she had come to a decision.

"Don't cancel the fight. Leave them to me."

* * *

Clark followed her out the door.

"You shouldn't be alone for this," he said in the hallway, keeping pace with her as they walked towards the colosseum. "I'm coming with you."

"I appreciate the thought, but our wavelengths don't match," Ayame said, shooting him a glance without breaking stride.

"I know," said Clark, "and that's not what I meant. A queen should have a witness, shouldn't she?"

Ayame let out a breath as they turned onto the path that led to the arena, feeling some of the weight on her shoulders lift at Clark's words. "You know, four-eyes, you're not actually that bad," she said.

"Thanks, Ayame. I'll take that as a compliment."

* * *

At precisely 8:00 in the morning, three people walked out of the tunnels into the center of the arena. Two of them were third-year E.A.T. students, weapon and meister pair Grayson Knight and Richard Sturm. The third was Ayame Star.

"What is _she_ doing here?" Grayson asked loudly, his eyes widening as he pointed at Ayame across the distance between them. From where he stood preparing to officiate the match, Mifune wondered whether Grayson knew how scared he sounded in that moment, none of his usual bravado in his voice. He wore an exercise band today, and Mifune thought he saw the hint of a bandage beneath it. He thought of the broken bottle they had found Rei Evans with, but said nothing.

Ayame said nothing as well, her eyes hard as she looked across the tiles at Grayson. She reminded Mifune of her father in that moment. And also not.

"She _can't_ be here!" Grayson said, turning towards Mifune, a note of pleading in his voice somewhere under all the affected outrage. He was still pointing at her. "Her team's disqualified! She doesn't even have a meister!"

Ayame said nothing in her defense. She continued to stand there, watching Grayson with that violet-eyed glare. Behind Grayson, his partner seemed to shrink back, all the color draining from his face as he watched Ayame. When she turned her eyes on him, Richard actually took a step back, as if her glare had been a physical blow.

Mifune glanced at Grayson, who was practically foaming at the mouth with rage and terror. "The tournament only has one rule. No outside interference is allowed. Do you believe this rule to have been broken today, Grayson?"

Eyes widening. A step back and then a return to blind rage. Rage, Mifune thought, could have its uses sometimes, but applied like this it was so clearly the barking of a dog that knew it was beaten. "She _can't_ be here!" he tried again. "She can't—she's just a weapon! She doesn't have a _meister_!"

"Weapons can compete autonomously if they so choose," Mifune said. "They have, in fact, operated autonomously in the past, purely by choice. There is no rule that states that both members of a weapon-meister pair must be present to compete in the tournament."

"But—!" Grayson began.

"The fight is legal," Mifune said. "Unless you're telling me you would rather forfeit."

Grayson looked from Mifune to Ayame, his jaw clenched and his face contorted in a rictus of rage. Mifune could almost map out his thoughts. He had seen countless faces like that in the past, heard countless similar stories. He wanted to be strong. Forfeiting to Ayame would make him seem weak. But he was scared of her, for the sole reason that she showed no fear of him.

Pride won out in the end. He saw it in the moment Grayson raised his hand towards his weapon.

"Richard."

Richard looked at him uneasily, but transformed in a flash of light, forming a mailed gauntlet. Ayame didn't move. Mifune looked between the two of them and the crowd seemed to hold its breath.

"Begin."

* * *

Ayame surged forward like a rocket, and at the same time, on the other side of Death City, something happened, a brief momentary pulse of power that almost no one felt but a handful of people, those strong enough to feel it.

In the dispensary, Maka looked up from her seat and glanced at the window, but the feeling passed before she could get a handle on it, leaving only a troubling unease. Soul looked over at her from where he was working to while away the time, putting away the sheet of paper that he had been rereading for the past thirty minutes and frowning at her expression.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

 _Maybe,_ she thought, but she couldn't feel anything anymore, so what she said was "No."

Elsewhere, in a darkened classroom, Stein opened his eyes from where he had laid down to sleep on a desk, his lab coat covering him. He stared up at the ceiling, blinking his eyes slowly and wondering if it had been a dream.

"Everything alright?" Marie asked from one of the seats, looking up from what she was doing. She had recently started taking up knitting, but seemed to be cursed with the inability to follow a pattern properly, leading to a collection of well-intentioned but misshapen lumps. Stein glanced at her, one arm pillowed behind his head, then looked up at the ceiling again.

"Fine," he decided. "Probably a dream."

From his seat in the stands, in the private balcony overlooking the arena shared only by the Shinigami and his entourage, Kid looked up, frowning as the feeling passed over him.

 _A witch?,_ he thought, but the feeling was gone before he could fully pinpoint where it came from. He looked across at the stands, saw Angela seated next to her partner, and decided that it had to have been her, that she had probably cast some small spell that he couldn't see.

Except for a moment, he could have sworn there had been two witch souls in the city. Imagining things? Maybe.

He turned his attention back to the fight, as in the stands, Shelley Marie Stein turned towards her partner.

"Did you just do something?" she asked.

"No," said Angela, frowning in genuine confusion. "Why?"

Shelley shrugged, a frown on her face as she watched the fight. "For a moment, I thought I felt another witch presence," she said. "But maybe I was just imagining things. It's gone now."

Angela frowned, but said nothing, grabbing a handful of popcorn and popping it into her mouth as she watched the fight.

In the back of her mind, she reached for Pascal.

* * *

Ayame darted across the length of the arena towards Grayson and Richard, crossing the distance between them in a blink. Grayson's eyes widened as she leaped into the air, her foot aiming for his head, and he raised his gauntleted hand, her foot slamming down onto the armored plating surrounding his forearm. Ayame kicked off of it in one fluid motion, landing on the ground. She dropped quickly into a crouch and supported herself on her arms, sweeping her legs out at his ankles. Grayson jumped back, avoiding the sweep, and skidded backwards as he landed on the ground, his mailed fist clenching.

He let out a shout of rage, running towards her and raising his gauntlet. Ayame stepped nimbly out of the way as he brought it down, the impact strong enough to form a crater on the ground. She stepped on the side of his gauntlet with one foot, twisting around with the other and kicking at the side of Grayson's head.

He went flying, flipping over in the air and landing back on his feet. Ayame landed at the edge of the crater he had formed in the ground, looking down at the depression in the earth, at the small pieces of stone and tile still settling onto the ground. She looked up at Grayson, who looked up at her, rubbing at his cheek with a look of hatred on his face.

"You hit my partner with that?" she asked, her voice deathly soft. It picked up in volume as she glared over at him, her hands clenching into fists. "You hit my _unarmed_ partner with _that_?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, you crazy bitch," Grayson muttered, glaring at her.

Ayame stared at Grayson, feeling anger and rage well up somewhere inside of her. Her fists tightened, her knuckles going white. And then at once they transformed, her hands up to her elbows becoming straight black blades. Grayson sank down into a stance, raising his gauntlet in the ready position.

Ayame charged, opening with a relentless assault. She swept her blades at Grayson, one after the other, swiping high and ducking low, reaching for any exposed skin that she could find. Grayson moved with her and stepped back, blocking her blows with the armored mail of his gauntlet. He stared at her from behind the arm he was using as a shield, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Whatever he had expected from her, he hadn't been prepared for this onslaught. And he wasn't, Ayame thought, as good at reading her as Clark.

And then he surprised her. He moved his fist, an apparent opening in his defense, and she slid the blade of her right arm through the opening, stabbing at him. She felt resistance, her blade cutting a shallow line across his side as he twisted his body out of the way, but then his fist filled up the entirety of her vision, striking her so hard that she flew backwards, wind rippling around her as she crashed into the arena wall with enough force to rattle it. A cloud of dust rose up around her as she crashed, the impact cracking the stone of the arena wall.

The crowd held its breath.

The dust cleared to reveal her crouched against the wall, her feet braced against it and her eyes narrowed at Grayson. A trickle of blood dripped down from a cut on her head where he had struck her, cutting a line through the dust in her skin. She bent her knees, then kicked off the wall with enough force to widen the cracks, the wind rippling around her again.

Grayson thrust his fist at her as she flew towards him, a straight punch, but she simply placed her now human hand on his arm and pushed off of it, twisting her body around. Her right foot shifted form in the air as she spun, becoming the hooked blade of her kusarigama form. Grayson's eyes widened and he ducked just in time, her blade shearing through strands of hair.

She completed her spin and jumped off of his arm, landing on the ground, but not before transforming her free hand into a weighted chain, the chain wrapping around Grayson's neck. He let out a choked cry as she pulled, dragging him to the ground with enough force to crack the tiles in his wake.

Grayson snarled, looking up from the ground, and tightened his fist. _"Sonic Blow!"_ he intoned, slamming it into the ground in front of him.

The wind kicked up in its wake, cracking the tiles in a line between Grayson and Ayame. Ayame's eyes widened and she quickly released him, jumping out of the way of a sudden blast of energy as Grayson surged forward, slamming his fist at her torso. She felt something crack at the blow, the impact knocking the wind out of her, but grabbed onto his exercise band with her free hand to keep from being thrown back, gritting her teeth and slamming her fist at his face. She heard a satisfying crunch in return and knew she had broken his nose.

Ayame threw her weight into the blow, moving her body so that her shoulder slammed into him and pushed him to the ground, Ayame on top of him. The movement dislodged his exercise band, still clasped in her hand, and Ayame could see now the bandage it was hiding, a piece of gauze taped to the side of Grayson's temple. Her eyes narrowed in fury, her hand going down to clutch at Grayson's shirt.

"Rei did that to you, huh?" she asked, sitting on top of his chest. She brought her hand up and down in one quick motion, slamming Grayson's head back against the tiles. "The kid you picked on fought back, and you hurt him for it. You're scum, Grayson. I'm gonna make you pay."

"Shut…up…" Grayson snarled at her, glaring at her from over the ruin of his nose. He twisted his body, throwing her off of him with surprising force, and slammed his gauntleted hand into the ground, pushing off of it with enough force to launch himself at her, his foot slamming into the center of her chest. The blow forced her back and made the ribs he had cracked earlier let out stabs of pain. Ayame tried not to let it show as she slid backwards at the ground, her breathing coming in shallow pants as she glared at him.

"He was _weak,_ " Grayson said, his voice too soft for Mifune and the crowd to hear. "So are you."

"He was strong enough to hurt you," Ayame said, her eyes flicking to the bandage on Grayson's head as she sank down close to the ground. "I'm going to finish the job."

She launched herself at Grayson again, her arms transforming into blades.

* * *

Mifune watched from a distance as Grayson and Ayame fought, watched as Ayame stabbed at Grayson with her right hand, forming a short blade that resembled her ninjato form. Grayson dodged the blow, twisting to the side, and slammed his fist at her left side. Her left arm transformed in a flash, becoming a shuriken that covered most of the left side of her body and blocking Grayson's punch. It struck the shuriken with a ringing sound, making Ayame stumble to the right, but she corrected herself quickly, aiming a knee at his gut.

The knee strike connected, making Grayson double over with a pained grunt, and she twisted around, flipping over while at the same time slamming her foot into the space behind his ear. Grayson stumbled forward and Mifune watched the ongoing battle with some concern, his eyes on Ayame as she moved. Her movements were beginning to remind him of another battle, much more savage, but with more or less the same feeling of intent. A battle from long ago.

He watched Ayame carefully, his right hand going to one of the many swords he had carried into the arena with him that day. It didn't matter what he thought about this fight, what he thought about Grayson and Richard and Ayame. His responsibility was to stop the fight if it looked like it was going too far, if he thought one of the combatants couldn't restrain themselves.

If he thought Ayame Star couldn't restrain herself.

She flew out of a cloud of dust that Grayson had formed by punching the ground, her eyes narrowed as she slammed her fist at him, and for a half-second Mifune wasn't seeing her, he was seeing someone else, someone with the same colored hair, roughly the same age, and, at the time, the same height. Someone who at that time had been very close to stepping onto the path of the demon.

He saw Ayame land crouched on the ground as Grayson snapped back, saw the opening Grayson had left, the way that his fist would never be able to reach Ayame in time. He saw her right arm form the long blade of her katana form, felt the wave of killing intent emanating from her in that instant as she stabbed at Grayson, her bladed arm sailing right past his guard and towards his head. Mifune's hand twitched towards his nearest sword, holding his breath for a moment.

At the last instant, Ayame turned her arm, striking Grayson across the face with the flat of the blade. The killing intent vanished like a breath, replaced only by the same cold rage he had felt earlier as she spun around, slamming the back of her foot into Richard's back instead. He flew forwards, flipping over in the air and landing on his feet before he could slam into the ground.

Mifune exhaled, returning his sword to its sheath.

A noise filled the air as Ayame landed on the ground as well, reverberating through the stands, a deafening roar. Mifune looked up, realizing what it was, although Ayame didn't seem to notice.

The crowd was cheering.

* * *

Something clattered to the ground in the wake of that last blow, something that caught Ayame's eye as it fell from Grayson's pocket, landing in the space between them. A star pin, glittering gold and covered in dust. It made her breath catch as it landed on the ground, a small ringing sound in its wake. And then it made her angrier.

"That was Rei's," she said, looking at the space between them at Grayson, at his broken nose and the thin cut across his cheek where she hadn't entirely been able to stop her blade from cutting him. Grayson glared at her, incoherent now with rage, and Ayame's hand closed into a fist. "You had no right to take that from him," she said. "No right."

Grayson charged at her, letting out a bellow of rage. Ayame's eyes narrowed dangerously, and she ran to meet him.

He moved too quickly for her to dodge his blow, but she twisted her body to the side, managing to take a glancing hit as the force behind the blow sent her flying. Pain bloomed across her side like a flower, but she ignored it, flipping over in the air and landing lightly on her feet as she ran towards him again.

She thought about Rei facing Grayson and Richard last night, alone in the alley, thought of him, who had only just started fighting seriously a few months ago, confronted suddenly with a third-year meister and weapon, with a weapon who could make sonic blasts with his fists. She thought of Rei standing up anyway, finding the courage to fight back in spite of that, thought of all of that and felt her throat close up with pride and anger and rage and all the guilt she felt at not being there with him. And then she thought of Grayson seeing all of that and not seeing the brave boy she saw in her mind now. She thought of Grayson seeing an _opportunity._ She thought of Grayson beating her partner so badly that he had been knocked unconscious, that he had needed _surgery._ She thought of Grayson beating her partner that badly and then leaving him alone on some street corner in the middle of nowhere, to be found or to die.

It disgusted her. It disgusted her enough to make her scream, to make her run towards him as fast as she could, pouring all of her anger and her rage and her guilt into one last blow. She planted her foot on the ground in front of her, her hand tightening into a fist as she swung around, as she put all that anger and rage and disgust into one punch. She threw all of her weight and force behind the blow, the stone beneath her cracking as she braced herself against it, a crater of her own forming around her as she swung her fist at his face.

He raised his own fist, his gauntlet moving towards her, but it was too slow. It hovered in the air uselessly as her blow struck him in the side of the head, time seeming to freeze as her punch connected. And then he went flying as she turned her body, her blow throwing him back through the air.

He hit the wall of the arena, stone cracking in his wake, and kept going, stone collapsing in his wake as he landed in a heap on the ground in the tunnels beneath the stands. Dust rose up in his wake, a cloud of dust so thick that it hung ankle-deep over the arena. The world seemed strangely silent and still after that, neither Richard nor Grayson getting up. Ayame walked slowly over to the star, her heart pounding and her ears ringing.

It was only when she picked it up and stood up again that hearing returned, that she realized the crowd was cheering.

The roar was deafening, applause and whistles and people screaming her name. They were cheering for _her,_ Ayame realized as she blinked up at them, listening to the cheering and applause and being blinded by the camera flashes.

After three months of her being beneath their notice, they were finally, finally, cheering for her.

She sucked in a breath, feeling suddenly overwhelmed by emotions she couldn't name, and because crying in front of a crowd like this would look lame, tightened her hand into a fist around the star she had brought Rei and raised it into the air, facing the crowd as Mifune called the fight and the screens on either side of the arena declared her and Rei the winners.

And then the blows Grayson had struck finally got to her and she swayed unsteadily on her feet, her vision blurring as she fell to the ground.

* * *

The aftermath of the tournament was chaos, the DWMA's medical team quickly swarming the field after the fight. Kid watched from his position on the balcony as they bundled Ayame up and set her on a stretcher, a separate team already working to dig Richard and Grayson out of the rubble. He turned away, about to deliver the closing remarks to the crowd when he heard a voice from the entrance to the tunnels behind him, a blond girl in ripped jeans and a pink overcoat running towards him with her hand extended.

"Shinigami-sama!" Cassandra Crane said, sounding out of breath as she skidded to a stop in front of him. She rested both hands on her knees, gulping down air before holding up her phone. "Shinigami-sama—look at this! Someone had their phone out last night. They took a video of the attack!"

Kid's eyes widened, and he looked at her screen. Sure enough, Grayson and Richard were cornering Rei, Grayson holding him against the wall with his other arm as he slammed the gauntlet into Rei's chest. The video had an odd vantage point, like it was being taken from above, but it was convincing nonetheless. His eyes narrowed.

"What do you want to do, Kid?" Liz asked from behind him, looking over his shoulder and seeing the same video. Kid looked back down at the field, where the medical team was still extracting Grayson and Richard, loading them onto stretchers as well.

"Have them see me when they wake up," he said, turning away.

* * *

For Rei, the hours passed in a confusing tangle of images, sounds and sensations, so mixed with dreams that it was difficult to tell one from the other. There was pain, and then the sensation of being carried, the sight of his dad's white hair from over his shoulder and a familiar smell that sent Rei right back into his own childhood. And then there was pain and voices, Professor Stein's, his dad's, maybe even Ayame, someone poking roughly at him while someone else held his hand. Then, blessedly, nothing.

He came out of the nothing to the sound of angry voices gathered around him, to the comforting haze of painkillers and knowledge that pain existed but that he couldn't feel it yet, that waking would be an unpleasant task for which he didn't yet have the energy. He didn't fight it, letting unconsciousness take him again as he slipped back into the black.

When the darkness faded a third time, it was to a sudden flurry of activity, a door banging open as excited voices rang out around him. Someone was wheeled into a bed next to his—Rei opened his eyes a crack just to see and saw a head of blue hair over the gap between them. His mind fought to understand what he was seeing as he closed his eyes again, his thoughts as sluggish as if they were made of molasses.

Ayame, he thought, but he couldn't figure out why she was here or where _here_ was, or why he had been here to begin with. Then he remembered Grayson and Richard, remembered the beating he had taken in the alley, remembered the tournament. That was right, he thought, he and Ayame were supposed to fight in the tournament.

But if that was so, then why was she sleeping in a bed next to his?

He felt something touch his hand, realized it was dangling from over the side of the bed, and realized that the thing touching his hand was her hand, recognized it from the callouses on her fingertips. She slipped something into his hand and he cracked open his eyes at the sensation, meeting hers. His vision still swam unsteadily, but he could make out the deep violet of her eyes, the brilliant white of her grin. He closed his eyes again as her hand pulled away, his fingers closing around the object she had left there.

A pin, he realized, feeling its weight and shape. A star, small, five points. A pin that he had last seen in Grayson's hands as the other boy walked away. And then he understood why Ayame was smiling, understood why he was holding the pin, how she had gotten it.

 _Oh,_ he thought, understanding breaking through the mire as he settled back into bed, managing to draw his hand back up onto the bed as he closed his eyes again. _We won._

A smile came to his face in spite of himself as he drifted back into sleep, the star still cradled in his hand.

_Crazy girl…_

* * *

On the other side of Death City, Cassandra Crane walked quietly into her apartment, the shades drawn over the windows and casting a premature darkness over the place despite the fact that it was barely mid-morning outside. She stripped off her shoes and padded quietly over to her partner's bedroom, where Morgan was lying on her side on the bed, unmoving. A large stone basin sat on her bedside table, filled with water.

"Morgan?" Cassie asked, concern in her voice as she watched her partner. "I'm back, Morgan. Shinigami-sama saw the video. We did it."

Morgan didn't respond, although Cassie knew she wasn't asleep. Cassie frowned at her and turned to leave, shooting a glance at the oversized raven that perched on the lip of the stone basin, cawing at her.

"Shut up, Quoth," she said, her eyes narrowing as she closed the door behind her.

* * *

Elsewhere in Death City, Angela Leon, Deputy Ambassador to the Witch Assembly, chameleon witch and three-star meister, bent down to the ground as Pascal darted towards her, reaching out a hand for the chameleon to scamper up.

"What is it?" she asked. "What did you find?"

Pascal looked up at her, his tail flicking as he met her eyes, images flashing in front of her own eyes from everything the chameleon had seen in the past twenty-four hours.

Angela stared.

* * *

**Omake**

"Vayne…" Kid said after a few moments of silence, staring at the ruin that now stood in place of the training forest. "…Did you cut down my trees?"

"Y-Yeah…" said Vayne, looking down at the ground and nudging a loose stone with his foot. He rubbed at the back of his neck, looking as though he was preparing to be yelled at. "S-Sorry about that. I was really mad about Rei, and I…"

"Did you cut them down symmetrically?" Kid asked, looking now at the lone tree left standing in this swath of the field, matching cuts on its left and right side.

"Um...yeah?" said Vayne. "I mean…uh…force of habit, I guess, from, uh, Shibuko..."

Kid stared at the destruction for a moment more before placing a hand on Vayne's shoulder, turning to walk away. Vayne blinked at him, eyes wide as he passed.

"Uh—so does this mean we're good?" he asked.

"Replant the trees."

"O-Okay…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayame's theme song from the fight is the Japanese version of Twister from The World Ends With You (although the Kingdom Mix is mostly appropriate, since I used that to write most of the fight and only switched to the Japanese version for the very last scene).


	13. I'll Shine For You

 

 

 

* * *

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

**I'll Shine For You**

* * *

Rei sat up in bed the afternoon after the tournament finale, his back propped up against the headboard as he watched the dispensary window's curtains flutter in the wind. In the bed next to his, Ayame was still asleep, breathing softly while she slept off whatever it was Naigus had given her. A curtain divided the dispensary into two, put up to separate Rei and Ayame from Grayson and Richard. He hadn't heard a sound from that corner of the room since finally waking.

Across from him, his dad sat in a chair by the window, several official looking papers held down by a cup of coffee on the table next to him. His mom had apparently not slept for most of the night, and had gone home to rest as soon as Rei was awake, trading places with Soul, who had gotten a few hours of sleep in the staff lounge after the tournament finale. Rei wanted to tell him that he didn't need to be looked after, that he was feeling a lot better now, but a part of him liked having someone here, as guilty as he felt for worrying them like this.

"I guess I never really cared much," Rei said, keeping his voice soft for Ayame's sake as he looked past his dad and out the window. They had been talking for a little while, about the tournament, about school, about all sorts of things. "About all of this, I mean. Everyone's always expecting me to become you guys. It just ended up being kind of stressful, so I stopped really trying."

'Stopped' was an understatement, now that he thought about it. He thought he had been trying, but what he'd really been doing this past three months was coasting, doing just enough work to avoid embarrassing himself or Ayame without actually putting any work into it. It made him feel guilty now that he thought about that, and he dropped his gaze unconsciously.

"Yeah, I get that," said Soul, from where he was seated in his chair. He didn't look upset, despite Rei's admission, just thoughtful. And tired, Rei thought, although that was probably the lack of sleep. "I was like that as a kid, you know. My parents were always trying to push me into music, but I was never as good as your uncle, so, you know, I just stopped trying."

"But you were really into being at the DWMA," said Rei, feeling a little of the old misery creeping in even as he said the words. He wanted to pull his legs up close to his chest, but he still ached when he moved suddenly, so he didn't try it. "I'm not even sure I have _that_."

"The DWMA was just a way to get away from it all," said Soul, shrugging. "I was good at it. It was kind of fun. But I wouldn't say I was _passionate_ about it or anything. To be honest, if nothing changed, I was probably going to end up half-assing my way through the DWMA too."

"What changed?" Rei asked, genuinely interested. He raised his head, looking up at his father, who looked away, turning his head so that he could look out the window and avoid Rei's eyes. Rei thought he might have been a little embarrassed, but he wasn't sure.

"…I found someone I wanted to be strong for," Soul finally said. "That made all of that stuff—all of this—finally mean something to me. The same thing might work for you." He shrugged. "But if it doesn't, no big deal. You don't have to stick around just because you think you have to follow in our footsteps or something like that. Find your own path. Something that you want to do."

Rei nodded, but he was only half-listening. His mind had wandered, fixating on Soul's first sentence.

_Someone to be strong for…_

His eyes moved over the hospital bed he was lying in, drifting to the table between his and Ayame's beds, where the pin she had retrieved for him rested. It sat on the corner of the table, catching the sunlight. He looked past it, his eyes landing on the neighboring bed, on the girl that lay on her side facing him, fast asleep.

"Hey, Dad?"

"Hmm?" asked Soul, looking back at him.

Rei smiled.

"I think I know what you mean."

* * *

"I can't believe we have to go to class today," Vayne said the day after the tournament ended, dropping into the seat next to Clark with an exhausted sigh. His meister simply shrugged, rubbing at his eyes from behind his glasses as he did his best to forward the video of Ayame's fight to her discreetly under the desk.

"The holiday was only supposed to last one day," he reminded Vayne. "We got two. I'd say that's more than fair."

Vayne said nothing, frowning as he settled into his seat and tried to pay attention to Marie-sensei, who was covering class for Maka because of a 'family emergency'. Like the whole class didn't know what that 'emergency' was. He opened his notebook because Rei would want the notes and homework from today, and tried to pay attention so that he could take notes, but it still felt a little surreal to him, everyone else in the class going on like nothing had happened.

Except they weren't, not really. Word of Ayame's match had spread through the school like wildfire, and people were still talking about it, the same way they still spread rumors about Richard and Grayson and about the condition Rei was in. If anything, the rumors were worse, because Vayne _knew_ for a fact that Rei was sitting up and talking and feeling a lot better now, as did quite a few members of their class, but to hear the N.O.T. students go on about it, it was like he was barely clinging to life.

It bothered him, because didn't the N.O.T. class have anything better to do than sit around gossiping about the E.A.T. students, but he was self-aware enough to recognize that it was probably only bothering him because he was still mad about Rei. He wanted to hit Grayson, but Ayame had already taken care of that.

He tried to think of this class as normal, but it wasn't, because both Rei and Ayame were still absent, Morgan had called in sick and Cassie was sitting in the row behind him with a worried look on her face, not listening to music but not paying attention either. Vayne flipped his notebook to a blank page and scribbled down some notes, already thinking about how Rei totally owed him for this, because he didn't really give a damn about 'Factors that Influence the Human Soul' or whatever it was that today's lecture was on.

"I know what will cheer you up," said Clark, putting his phone away and picking up his own notebook.

"What?" asked Vayne, glancing at him.

"Grayson and Richard," said Clark, adjusting his glasses. "Rumor is that they were marched to the Death Room this morning. Shinigami-sama isn't happy. That's where Maka-sensei is right now, listening in."

Vayne scowled, looking back at the front where Marie was lecturing. Grayson and Richard's punishments had been a subject of gossip in the school for the past day and a half, and no one could agree on what they were going to be, but everyone agreed that they were going to be severe. He knew he shouldn't have been feeling happy about it.

But Clark was right. It did make him feel a little better.

He kept writing.

* * *

" _Richard didn't want to do it," Rei said, staring off distractedly into the distance as Naigus finished checking on his injuries. "He tried to talk Grayson down."_

" _Regardless of how he felt about it, he still cooperated with the attack," said Kid, frowning at Rei from his seat by the window. "He could have refused."_

" _He could have, but I don't know," said Rei, still not looking at him. "I get the feeling he was just as scared of Grayson as I was."_

_Kid watched Rei for a moment, the early morning sun filtering in through the window behind him. Grayson and Richard would wake soon, and he would have to decide what to do about them by then. He thought he had decided, but now he wasn't entirely sure. "Speaking as a family friend, Rei," Kid said. "I'm not entirely sure either of them deserve your sympathy."_

" _Probably not," said Rei, shrugging. "I just…I don't know. I get the sense that Richard could make something out of himself—shape up a bit, if you could get him away from Grayson…"_

Kid stood in the Death Room, Maka and Soul on either side of him as they watched Richard and Grayson being brought in, and found himself considering Rei's words. He had to be fair, he reminded himself. It didn't matter if he was a friend of the boy's family or not, he couldn't allow his anger to cloud his judgment. And he couldn't allow his sympathy to cloud his judgment either. Despite being, at least in part, a school, the DWMA was still a military organization, and this sort of behavior would not be tolerated. Bullying was one thing, but deliberately ambushing and assaulting a fellow DWMA member in the middle of the night? That was another thing entirely.

Grayson scowled up at him as Liz and Patty finally stopped. Richard, at least, had the decency to look ashamed. He stared down at the ground, not looking up. Maka and Soul bristled as they saw him, and Kid hoped that they would hold to their promise to observe _only_. He didn't want to have to ask either of them to leave.

"Grayson Knight," Kid said, trying (and not quite succeeding) to keep the anger out of his voice. "We have convincing evidence that you stalked and assaulted an unarmed DWMA student on the night of the Death Festival, engaged the student in a fight off-campus without the supervision of one of the teachers, and attacked them to the point of severe injury. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Grayson straightened up, fists clenched and raw fury in his eyes, but said nothing. Kid's eyes narrowed.

"Nothing?" he asked. "I'm sure you're aware what the penalty is for killing another DWMA member without cause."

That seemed to get to him, the color draining from his face. He didn't look away, but he didn't look quite as confident in himself as he stared at Kid. He didn't, Kid noticed, turn his eyes either to the right or to the left, where Soul and Maka continued to glare.

"Evans is alive," he said.

"Yes," Kid said. "No thanks to you. If he weren't, you and I would be having a _very_ different conversation." He took in a breath, meeting Grayson's eyes. "I'm expelling you from the DWMA. You have twenty-four hours to vacate your apartment, after which I expect you to turn in your keys and leave."

Grayson's eyes widened. "You can't do that—," he began.

"I can," said Kid, interrupting him. "You're dismissed."

Grayson shot him a hateful look, but he turned, walking towards the door. "Richard," he barked as he passed.

Richard turned to follow, still not looking up.

"Not you, Richard," Kid said, stopping him. "I'm not finished with you."

Richard stopped moving, looking uncertainly between Kid and Grayson. Grayson muttered something foul under his breath, then turned to walk away, Liz breaking away from Patty to follow him out of the Death Room. Kid waited until the last of his footsteps had faded before looking back at Richard.

"A reliable source tells me you weren't completely willing."

Richard's eyes widened and then, like a drowning man seizing anything around him that could float, started to speak. "I wasn't," he said. "Honest. I didn't want to go that far. I just—I wanted to stop him, but Gray—."

Kid raised his hands, cutting him off. "Regardless of what your intentions were, you still ultimately cooperated," he said. "But a better person than you—," Maka's breath hitched slightly at those words, but she said nothing, continuing to watch, "—thinks there might be something in you worth salvaging. I'm demoting you to the N.O.T. class. You can take your things from your apartment and move them into the dormitories. You'll lose your E.A.T. privileges, and you'll have to find a new partner, but you can continue on at DWMA."

"I—." Richard stared at Kid, and then all the breath seemed to go out of him in a rush. "Thank you, Shinigami-sama."

"Don't thank me," said Kid, turning away. "I was planning on expelling you. You can move into the dorms now if you'd rather wait until your partner leaves to take your things."

Richard glanced behind him, looking down the long, guillotine-lined path that Grayson had vanished down. Some of the color drained from his face. "Yes," he said. "I think I'll do that. I—thank you again. I'm so—I'm sorry…"

"Go," said Kid as he turned around, not trusting himself to say anymore. Richard looked from Maka to Soul, still standing there stone-faced, then turned, practically scrambling out of the room.

* * *

Miss Potts' Tea Shop, located in one of the residential areas of Death City, was hardly a likely place for a clandestine meeting, but the owner of the shop was discreet and, because of the nature of the shop, there were a handful of private rooms that could be rented out for business like this. Angela waited in one of those, upstairs of the shop's main parlor, sipping at a cup of tea as she thought through her options and waited for her guest to arrive. She waited alone. Shelley guarded the door.

She wondered how much trouble she was going to get into for going behind Shinigami's back like this. The right thing to do would have been to inform him immediately of this development, but Angela was a firm believer in giving people a chance to come clean—it had worked for Mifune, after all—and besides, she was curious. There were too many missing pieces, too many things that didn't fit. If she acted and reported her suspicions to Shinigami or even to Kim, events would quickly spiral out of her control. She had no way of knowing if she would ever find the answers to her questions.

So instead, she waited, drumming her fingers on the tabletop out of impatience as she tried to gauge whether or not Miss Fay would actually show up.

Footsteps in the hallway, and then the door opened, admitting Angela's young guest. Shelley peeked in the room over the girl's head, meeting Angela's eyes. There was a silent reproach in them, a sign that Shelley really didn't like this, but she pulled back and closed the door behind her, leaving Angela alone with Morgan. She'd followed her instructions and come alone, Angela noted, looking around for any sign of the girl's partner. That was good. They were already off to a great start.

"Have a seat," said Angela, giving Morgan her best smile. "I have to say, I don't think I've ever had tea with royalty before."

Morgan tensed as she sat, freezing for a half-second as she looked up at Angela. The girl had always been pale, but she looked paler than usual today. She sat primly, ankles crossed, back straight, hands resting in her lap, but Angela still got the sense that she was getting ready to bolt.

"I don't know what you mean," Morgan said, her tone carefully measured.

"Morgan Fay," Angela asked, tapping the file folder on her desk. "Daughter of Morgana Le Fay, also known as Morgaine, also known as Loosepain, raven witch and half-sister of Arthur Pendragon. Yes, _that_ Arthur." Angela cut her off with a hand before Morgan could speak. "Granddaughter of the Morrigan," she finished, frowning at Morgan. "I wasn't even aware the Morrigan _had_ a granddaughter."

Morgan looked pained. "She…doesn't talk about me much," she said.

"She doesn't talk to anyone, it seems," said Angela, tapping Morgan's file, which contained all of the information the DWMA had on Morgana and the Morrigan, and all the information that the Witch Assembly had been willing to release. "Apparently, she's been somewhat of a recluse since her daughter's death. To be honest, I'm not sure I'd have noticed you if it wasn't for what you did last night. A transference spell, to get the video from the raven to your partner's phone? Your line specializes in Divination Magic, particularly when it comes to conflict, isn't that right?"

Morgan tensed further, her fingers curling inward. More than ever, Angela got the sense that she was fighting the urge to run.

"I'll be blunt, Morgan," Angela said, leaning forward. "I need to know why you're here. And there better be a very good reason why you've enrolled as a student while hiding yourself with a Soul Protect, otherwise the next person I talk to is going to be Shinigami."

Morgan stared at her, and then her composure broke, the fear in her eyes coming to the forefront as all of the color drained from her face. Suddenly, she didn't look quite as cold and distant as she had the other times Angela had seen her. She looked like what she was, a child.

"You can't," she said. "Please. You can't tell Shinigami-sama about me."

This went beyond simply just wanting to be a meister. Angela was sure of that. The days when witches would be killed just for setting foot inside the DWMA were well behind them. This wasn't like what had happened with Kim.

"Why not?" Angela asked. "What's wrong, Morgan?"

"She'll kill me," Morgan said, a slight quaver in her voice. "My grandmother. I barely managed to get away from her. If you tell Shinigami, he'll have to tell the Old Witch about me. And once she finds out, my grandmother will know."

Angela frowned at Morgan, feeling her heart starting to race with what the other girl was telling her. She had a feeling that she was just starting to stumble onto whatever it was Nerissa had been trying to warn her about, the thing that had bothered her since she and Shelley left the Witch Assembly a few weeks ago. Something about the Morrigan.

"Why would she kill you?" Angela asked. "What's going on, Morgan?"

"Because I escaped," Morgan said. "Because I defied her. Because I know—." She cut herself off suddenly and abruptly, lowering her eyes to her lap. All at once, she seemed to retreat back into herself, the quivering and shaking stopping as she drew in a breath and squared her shoulders, her eyes growing distant and cold again. "Please don't tell Shinigami-sama about me," she said, her voice soft now. "I promise, I won't cause any trouble. I couldn't live there anymore, though. Not with her. I couldn't stomach the things she did, the things she was trying to make me do."

Angela felt a shiver run down her spine as she stared at the girl. She knew there was a chance Morgan was lying to her, but she believed her. The Pull of Magic was still very much a factor with many of the witches, especially the older ones that didn't believe in the truce with the DWMA. Besides, she didn't think Morgan was cunning enough to fake the fear she felt from her.

Morgan looked like she was genuinely afraid for her life. And she was right. The minute Angela reported her to Shinigami, she knew that he would start composing his letter to the Old Witch. It was what the accords demanded, that any witches who wanted to attend DWMA needed approval from the both of them. And Shinigami would follow the rules. How could he do anything else? But it didn't sit right with her, that Morgan should be so scared.

"We could protect you," she said. "The DWMA, I mean. We have the resources to protect you, if your grandmother really is as evil as you say."

Morgan shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. "She knows me," she said. "She'll find a way. _Please."_

Angela drew in a slow breath, aware that she was about to do something that Mifune would likely have said was one of her 'very bad ideas'. But she couldn't bring herself to tell Shinigami now.

_In the interests of diplomacy…_ she said, although she knew that wasn't the only reason. _I'm just…keeping the peace._

"Alright," Angela said. "I won't tell anyone. On one condition—," She lifted a finger, "—this meeting _never_ happened. I can't be seen with you. I can't actively help you. If this gets out, and it _will_ someday, no one can know that I knew about this and didn't say anything. Or it could mean big trouble for both the DWMA and the Assembly." The accords were tenuous enough without word getting out that one of the DWMA's go-betweens was actively breaking them.

Morgan let out a relieved breath, her shoulders slumping. "Thank you," she breathed. "That's fair." For a moment, Angela worried that she was going to cry, but then she straightened up and composed herself again. "I'm sorry for any trouble I've caused. I promise, I won't use magic again."

"You will," Angela said. It was a compulsion, and one that she actually understood. She might not be affected by the Pull of Magic the same way that other witches were, a side-effect of Kim giving her regular doses of Regeneration Magic when she was growing up, but she still felt the compulsion to use what she knew. Thinking about the Pull reminded her of something, though, and she frowned in concern. "Morgan, how old are you?"

Morgan hesitated before answering, looking down again. "Thirteen," she said. "Why?"

Thirteen. The age at which the Pull of Magic started to make itself known. At thirteen, Angela had spent entirely too much time running around the DWMA invisible and playing pranks (or hitting people in the head), but she knew that for most witches, the Pull wasn't nearly as mild. "That's…a difficult age," Angela said. She made a vague gesture. "How are you feeling?"

She didn't answer, her eyes on the table, on the cup of tea that she still hadn't touched.

"Are you having trouble with the Pull of Magic?" Angela asked, more directly.

"I—yes," Morgan said, nodding her head.

Angela sighed, reaching for her bag. Luckily, she had come prepared for this eventuality. "Alright," she said, drawing out a black cord that almost resembled a friendship bracelet. It pulsed in her hand as she handed it to Morgan, still infused with Kim's power. The other witch had made it for her when Angela was still in school, and Kim's missions were picking up to the point where she spent less and less time in Death City. The enchantments were weaker than they had been, but Kim's magic was still potent, and Angela hadn't needed it for a very long time.

"This might help," she said, motioning for Morgan's wrist, which the girl reluctantly handed to her. The moment Angela tied it on, Morgan relaxed visibly, some of the tension leaving her as she let out a little sigh. "It's infused with Regeneration Magic. It helps fight the Pull. It's not perfect, but if you can get through your teenage years, you should be alright. That's what worked on me."

"Thank you," Morgan said again, letting her hand drop back to her lap. She kept her eyes down, still refusing to look at Angela, as if she was ashamed of letting the other witch see the emotion in them.

"You can go," Angela said. "I can't hide you from your grandmother forever, though. You'll need to face her someday."

"I know," Morgan said, getting to her feet. "Someday, when I'm stronger. Just…I can't do that right now."

"Get stronger, then," Angela said. "That's what the DWMA is here for." She wished she could do more, she really did, but she couldn't be seen to help Morgan. It wouldn't help; it would only hurt. Even giving her the bracelet was doing a little too much, but it was better than having a destructive, Pull-crazed witch loose on campus.

Morgan nodded, inclining her head towards her, then turned to leave.

Angela looked up. "I almost forgot," she said, stopping her before she could reach the door. "You said that you escaped the Morrigan. That she was doing things you couldn't stomach. Is she a danger, Morgan? Is she planning something? You're probably the only one that knows."

Morgan looked over her shoulder at her, eyes widening in surprise, and then she looked back down at the ground, taking a breath. "I do know," she said, her words halting, like she was thinking through each one carefully before saying it. "But I…can't tell you. If you know the legends about my grandmother, you know that she's very sensitive to the discussion of war plans."

_Oh…_ Angela thought, watching as Morgan turned to leave. Then realization dawned on her, the full meaning behind the girl's words becoming clear, and Angela's eyes widened, the floor seeming to drop out from under her.

_Oh._

* * *

Ayame opened her eyes to find Rei already sitting up in bed, tapping away at his laptop. She blinked away the last few traces of sleep, rolling over onto her back and staring up at the ceiling.

"Okay, that's not fair," she said, her tongue feeling thick in her mouth.

"Hmm?" asked Rei, not looking up at her. "What's not?"

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and flashed him a smile, as she propped herself up on her elbows, scooting back so that she was almost sitting up. "Any morning where you wake up ahead of me means something's wrong with the world."

"Good morning to you too, Ayame," Rei said, although he was smiling back.

She took a slow breath, taking inventory of her senses. Her body still felt slow and sluggish, her bones aching where Grayson had punched her and there was a sharp pain in her side that didn't seem to want to go away, but she felt fine. Pretty good in fact, probably good enough to refuse the next time someone offered her any medicine. It dulled the pain, but it left her feeling slow and stupid. And sleepy, which probably explained how _Rei_ was awake ahead of her.

Ayame stretched herself out, letting out a little hiss as her ribs complained, then swung her legs over the side of the bed, getting up.

Rei's eyes widened. "Hey!" he said. "You're not supposed to be up yet."

"Chill, worrywart," said Ayame. "I'm just going to the bathroom. I promise I wasn't even _thinking_ of running off." Which was a lie, because she totally was, but she knew it would drive Rei insane, and while _she_ might be ready to get out of bed, he definitely wasn't ready to get up and run around the school chasing after her.

She shuffled over to the adjacent bathroom, noting as she did that Grayson and Richard's beds were empty, finished with her business and splashed water over her face in the sink, the sharp cold chasing away the last remnants of her painkiller-induced sleep. By the time she made it back to her bed, she was feeling a lot like herself, and was awake enough to notice that the pile of cards and gifts from well-wishers that occupied the table between them had grown while she slept, now in serious danger of spilling over the side of the table.

She noticed a new brightly-colored card on Rei's side of the table, a child's scribble on the front of it. "Your sisters came by?" she asked, bracing her hand on the footboard and lowering herself slowly into a seat at the edge of the bed. Naigus might fuss, but she was tired of lying down, and at least she was still _here._ Rei frowned as he watched her, but didn't say anything about it, glancing at the card.

"Yeah," he said. "They were here this morning. They had to leave for school, though."

"I slept through _that_?" asked Ayame, looking up at the ceiling. "Man, I'm slipping."

"How are you feeling?" Rei asked.

She frowned, considering that. "Better," she said. "A little achy, but no big deal. I've had worse."

"Worse?" asked Rei. "When have you had _worse_?"

"Well, one time my parents went to go fight this dragon. _Big_ scary thing, up on the top of this mountain—I think we were in like, Norway or somewhere—basically Skyrim. Anyway, my parents said I had to stay behind with Bright Star, but that sounded boring, and he was _mostly_ toilet-trained by this point, so I—."

"—Never mind," said Rei, interrupting her with a pained look on his face. "I think I get the picture."

"How are _you_ feeling, princess?" asked Ayame, swinging her legs back on top of the bed. Her ribs were really aching now, and suddenly lying down didn't sound so bad after all. Better than painkillers.

Rei scowled at the nickname but said nothing else about it, furiously tapping away at his laptop for a moment before looking back at her. "Better," he said. "Still feel like I've been hit by a truck."

_You basically were,_ Ayame almost said, remembering Grayson's punches, but she held her tongue. Thinking about it still made her angry, and she didn't really want to dwell on it right now. Instead, she glanced back at the mountain of gifts spread between them, smiling at him.

"More from your fans?" she asked.

Rei blinked up at her, looking genuinely confused. "What are you talking about?" he asked. "Those are for you."

Ayame blinked, regarding the pile of gifts and get well cards again. The gifts were the usual hospital gifts—flowers, fruit, and candy, but the cards told a different story. Rei had a handful of them, mostly from members of their class, but he was right. The majority of them were addressed to Ayame, and they were from people she hadn't even met before, from people in the N.O.T. program and even a few from the senior E.A.T. classes.

"Looks like they saw your fight," Rei said, looking away from her. A faint blush spread slowly across his face. "There's a video going around the internet. I haven't see it, but Clark said it was awesome."

"There's a video going around?" Ayame asked. "Of me?"

"Yeah," Rei said. "A few people had their cameras out. Clark wanted to stop them from publishing it, said you might want your privacy, but I don't know. We kind of figured maybe you'd want people to see."

"A video," Ayame repeated. "Of me. Where I am being _awesome_."

"Yeah," Rei said, not looking at her now. "It's up on the school forum too."

Ayame blinked, and then she grinned, letting out a giggle in spite of herself and stamping her feet lightly on the bed. The giggle quickly turned into a pained 'ow' as her ribs protested, a dull ache spreading across her side and making her eyes water. She squeezed her eyes shut and let out a breath through her teeth, stretching out slowly.

"Don't hurt yourself," Rei said, his tone deadpan.

"You saw nothing," Ayame said when she could open her eyes again, glaring at him. She reached for one of the nearest packs of candy, a pack of round Halloween chocolates wrapped in foil that made them look like pumpkins and unwrapped one, considering it. "Besides," she said as she tossed it into the air and caught it in her mouth. "It's only right that they pay tribute to their queen."

"Sure, Ayame," said Rei, going back to his laptop. "Whatever you say."

She picked another chocolate up out of the bag, flicking it at him. It struck him in the side of the head and he tensed, placing his hand over the place it had hit as it rolled into a fold of his sheets, next to him. "What was that for?" he asked.

"Your share," Ayame said, looking back at the chocolates, "as my squire." Her face started heating up for a reason she couldn't name. The drugs, she told herself. Probably the drugs.

" _Thanks,"_ Rei muttered in a slightly sarcastic tone, picking up the chocolate. They said nothing for a moment, enjoying the silence and the sweets, Ayame tossing him a few more as she broke into some more of the gifts. This time, she made sure to toss them underhand so that they landed on the sheets instead of smacking Rei in the head.

It was only when they'd had about as much candy as they could stand and Ayame was lying on her back, staring at the ceiling and contemplating how far she could get if she climbed out the window now or, failing that, if she could bribe someone to go into their apartment and bring her some manga, that Rei spoke again.

"…Hey, Ayame?" he asked, and there was a hesitance in his tone, an uncertainty that was so at odds with the lightness of their banter earlier that she propped herself up on her arm to look at him, frowning as she lifted her head.

"Yeah?" she asked.

Rei wasn't looking at her. Instead, he was looking out the window, the sheets around him strewn with brightly colored Halloween candy wrappers. She wondered if he knew his ears were red and smiled, stifling a giggle as she decided she was going to keep that particular detail to herself.

"I was wondering," Rei said, still not looking at her. "After all of this…when we're both on our feet again…"

"Yeah…?" Ayame asked.

"Will you—uh—I mean—do you mind maybe…training with me?"

Ayame blinked at Rei, momentarily surprised. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but that hadn't been it. As she thought about it though, a smile slowly spread across her face.

"Yeah," she said, lying back down. "Of course."

* * *

**Omake**

"As you know," said Shinigami, from the Death Room, watching Rei and Ayame as they stood there, still fresh from the dispensary, "The winner of the tournament is normally allowed to meet with me and request their prize. This is a little delayed due to circumstances, but is there anything you want as a tournament prize? Within reason, of course."

Rei shrugged. "I didn't really do anything," he said. "Maybe permission to borrow a restricted book from the library, somewhere down the line? I don't know. Skip me for now."

"Fair enough," said Shinigami. "Ayame?"

Ayame frowned in thought, thinking it over. She tapped her chin with her finger, considering. "Anything?" she asked.

Shinigami seemed to pale. "Within reason," he stressed.

She thought for a moment more, and then her eyes lit up. "Alright," she said. "I've got it!"

* * *

"Whooohooo!" Ayame yelled in delight, skimming the sky of Death City on a familiar skull-patterned hoverboard. She flipped over in the air, catching the board in one hand as she plummeted headfirst towards the ground, then quickly righted herself, throwing the board down and jumping onto it an inch over the ground, taking to the sky again.

"This is the _life_!" she shrieked, her words echoing across the DWMA's grounds. She pulled the hoverboard between a narrow gap between two spires, doing a figure eight around the towers before taking off towards the city again.

Rei watched her from the ground, openmouthed. "You sure this is safe?" he asked, turning towards Shinigami.

"Don't worry," Shinigami-sama said, frowning up at her. "It's only for twenty-four hours."

"Besides," said Vayne, hands in pockets. "It's gonna take more than a fall to hurt Ayame."

Morgan snorted softly from beside them, looking up at Ayame. "The stones she lands on are more likely to take damage from a fall than Ayame is."

Shinigami paled suddenly, his eyes widening as he looked behind him at the school, and at the very loud girl still zipping along through its spines and around its towers. Morgan frowned, looking over her shoulder at him.

"Was it something I said?"

 


	14. The Bond of Partnership; Rei and Ayame's First Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I experimented a little with this chapter, because it actually covers a wide range of time, but you get to see a little taste of the abilities I had planned for Rei when I started this fic. Hope it works out and that you guys enjoy! (Yes, it's basically a chapter-long training montage with other scenes thrown in. One of the techniques that Rei learns in this chapter allows him to move very much like machines allow the main characters of a certain very popular not-Soul Eater anime to move, but I'll let you figure out what I'm talking about on your own~)
> 
> On Morgan/Morgana/The Morrigan: I'm taking some artistic liberties with Arthurian/Celtic mythology here. The original Morgana Le Fay was Arthur's half-sister, but her mother wasn't the Morrigan, it was just another woman. However, Morgana is often associated (wrongly, in many cases) with the Morrigan, and I ran with that association here and made the Morrigan her mother instead. In any case, while Morgan is related to Arthur, she's not actually related to his royal side and witches don't generally care who their fathers are, so Angela saying that was just a way to get Morgan riled up.

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

**The Bond of Partnership; Rei and Ayame's First Year**

* * *

"Remind me again why I'm supposed to be blindfolded," Rei asked, tying the cloth around his eyes and trying not to feel ridiculous as he stood alone with Ayame in the desert on the outskirts of Death City.

"Because I'm an assassination weapon," said Ayame, with surprising patience for someone who had given the same answer about three or four times already. "Which means we can't expect to fight every single fight in broad daylight. You have to be able to use your other senses just as well as your eyes. Which means training blindfolded."

"Okay," said Rei, resisting the urge to lift the blindfold to take a peek. "But I can't even keep up with you without a blindfold, so how am I supposed to—?"

"Relax," said Ayame. "I'll go easy on you. Just work on blocking attacks for now. Okay, ready?"

"Wait, no—," Rei began.

"Set go," Ayame said all in one breath. Rei heard shuffling footsteps, a sound that was almost like the wind itself moving past him, and then Ayame was behind him, patting him lightly between the shoulder blades. Rei's eyes widened and he pitched forward, spinning around to face her, but before he could react, she had already moved behind him, her hand on his back. He turned, but she was gone, his fingers closing around empty air.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth as he heard her move around him, trying to turn to face her, but she moved too quickly for him. She closed in again, tapping him gently on the back of the head, and Rei almost shouted in frustration, spinning around to try to catch her. He heard her breath, heard the scuff of her boots on sand as she jumped back, but again, she was gone before he moved.

Frustration welled up inside of him as he stood there, doing his best to listen, to catch any trace of her. This was stupid. He was never going to be able to do this. She was too fast for him, too quiet, too practiced at this. Her hand came down again, tapping him lightly on the side and retreating before he could react to it. He would never be able to catch her. He'd been training with her for less than a month. He wasn't even close to reaching her level. He should just give up now.

_No. Focus._

Rei breathed deep, trying to will the frustration away, trying to bring back some semblance of calm. He _could_ do this. He wanted to do this, which was why he had asked her to teach him. He just needed to focus, needed to breathe…

He breathed deep and the world shifted, his soul flaring up inside of him like a candle fire. The ripples of his Soul Perception spread outward from him, faint white lines on the inside of his mind. They pulsed outward, rippling, until they touched her soul. It blazed in his perception, a bright blue color to his right. And then something happened.

The ripples came back, bouncing off her body and returning to him, and for an instant he saw her clearly. Not as he would have seen her without a blindfold, but something like the outline of her.

She was coming at him from the right.

He moved without thinking, his heart racing as he swept his arm down towards that bright blue point, towards that quickly moving outline. His hand brushed against her arm and closed around it, pulling it down before she could strike him. With his other hand, he lifted his blindfold.

She was staring up at him with wide eyes, her arm in his hand, her palm still pointing at the ground. Rei realized from the look in her eye that he'd surprised her, that she hadn't been expecting him to pick this up so quickly. And then he realized what he _had_ done. He hadn't used his hearing, his other senses, the way she'd expected him to.

He'd used his Soul Perception. He'd used it in a way that sensed not just her soul but her body, her location and the way she was moving towards him.

And it _worked._

* * *

"I'm not sure about this, Rei," Ayame said a day later, slowly pacing around him in the silence of their living room.

Rei sat on his heels on the floor, his eyes closed as he tried to focus on his Soul Perception, on the ripples that spread slowly outwards from him, bouncing off the walls and furniture of their living room and returning back to him with information, with the placement of things in the room and with Ayame's location as she moved, a ghostly figure with a flame at its heart, pacing slow circles around him.

"I can feel you with my Soul Perception," Rei said. "I'm just trying…" He trailed off, his brow furrowing in concentration. The information the technique was giving him was jumpy. One moment she was two degrees to his right, in the next she had crossed over to his left side entirely. But if he could make the ripples come faster—he gave them a little push with his mind, trying to speed them up—faster, faster, _faster…_

The room around him seemed to hum as he tried to speed up his Soul Perception, the ripples moving outward from him at breakneck speed. They wove together, putting the room into perspective for him, bringing more details into focus. The effort had caused an ache to spread from behind his eyes, a slow throbbing in his skull as he tried to hold it together.

But he could see Ayame now, could see her in fluid motion, her hands moving as she stepped, her hair falling behind her in a stream.

He opened his eyes.

* * *

"Short-ranged clairvoyance," Professor Stein said, when Rei asked him about it. He raised his hand to his mouth as if he was about to take a smoke, then paused, blinking down at it as if he was surprised and a little confused to find it empty. "You have the ability to sweep the area around you with your Soul Perception. It's similar to Azusa's ability, but much more contained. You use your own soul wavelength to generate the 'ripples' you describe, and absorb the information as it's reflected back to you."

He didn't have much more information than that, but at least it was something to work with, and Rei threw himself into his training with a drive that surprised even him. By the end of the month, he had managed to make the ripples appear with surprising frequency the first time around, had managed to keep a lower-resolution outline of the room around him in his head even while moving, had managed to pick out smaller and smaller objects, catch things that were moving with more and more speed.

It had been Ayame's idea to start throwing things at him while they were training, to see if he could pick out projectiles coming towards him from the air. The first time he managed to catch one, rather than dodge them or have them strike him somewhere on his body and leave a welt, he felt her soul flare up in response, almost as if in pride. He opened his eyes, baseball in hand, and found her grinning.

* * *

It had been eight years since Angela had lived in Mifune's small apartment not far from the DWMA, but she found when she tried the door that her key still worked. He wasn't home when she got there, despite arriving sometime in the late afternoon. Not having much else to do, she brewed a pot of tea, finding the intricate Japanese tea set exactly where it had been while she was still living here. That done, there was nothing else to do but pace the living room while waiting for him to get home, her eyes moving over the familiar books on the shelves, mostly martial arts texts. Her mind raced, trying to work out what she was going to say. She had spent the past few weeks since speaking with Morgan going back and forth on whether or not she should say anything at all, whether or not she could _risk_ saying anything at all.

At the end of the day, she realized that she had a responsibility to say something, and if she could tell _anyone_ at Death City without having all of this blow up in her face, it would be Mifune.

She turned as she heard the door open, facing it.

"…An?" Mifune asked, frowning at her as he closed the door behind him and took off his shoes. "What are you doing here?"

She put on her best smile. "Just stopping in," she said. She felt a surge of unexpected affection as he turned away from her and slipped off his sword belts, setting the blades aside. It was his usual routine after getting back from the DWMA, and it brought her back to her childhood in a way that coming here always did. "I wanted to talk to you about something, actually," she said, talking around the knot in her throat.

Mifune looked over at her, and although his expression didn't change, she knew that he had caught something worrying in her tone. "Yes?"

"It's about…a difficulty," she said, wondering how on earth she was supposed to warn him about impending war without actually talking about it so that the Morrigan wouldn't know they were onto her. And what he was going to be able to do with it even after she got her message across. She took a deep breath as his brows arched in question, exhaling slowly. "Do you remember the book you gave me for graduation?"

Mifune frowned at her, but nodded slowly. He didn't elaborate.

The book had been Sun Tzu's _Art of War_. A new copy, all of her own, because she had spent entirely too much time rifling through Mifune's old dog-eared copy of the same volume. She hadn't actually been interested in it at the time, not at first. It was just something she saw Mifune doing on occasion, so she had copied him.

"I've been thinking about it lately…" she said, carefully enunciating each word. "And…it's been…very useful. As a diplomat, sometimes I find myself unable to—to decide how to properly manage information. Particularly sensitive information that could relate to some of the, uh, particulars of that book."

Mifune raised an eyebrow.

"What I'm saying," she said, quickly, before he could interrupt her, "is that sometimes I find myself with sensitive information, and sometimes…because of the people that I deal with, even the act of _discussing_ said information could make things, um…difficult."

He watched her in silence for a moment, working through what she'd said. And then, just as she was trying to come up with a better way to say it, he responded.

"You're saying that your current…diplomatic difficulty is related to one of those people."

"Yes…" said Angela, drawing out the word slowly as she tried to think of what to say next. "And while…of course as a diplomat, my job is to smooth over such…difficulties, sometimes taking certain measures might be prudent."

Mifune tilted his head to the side, and she knew he understood. "You can't actually discuss it," he said. It wasn't a question.

"I don't think so," she said, relieved that that much, at least, could be straightforward. "Not directly. Not without alerting…certain elements currently residing somewhere in Ireland."

"The crow witch?" Mifune guessed, and Angela was incredibly relieved that he didn't call the Morrigan by name, or identify her as what mortals commonly thought of her, a war goddess. But then again, Mifune had to have known the legends, having built so much of his life on war and the study of it.

"Yes," she said.

He nodded, his expression grave. "I'll…pass on the message," he said.

Angela exhaled, her shoulders slumping with relief. "Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me, An."

* * *

Ayame quickly learned that while it took a while to get Rei motivated to do something, he was very thorough when it came to things he actually wanted to do. To the point where she'd caught him closing his eyes on random occasions, never breaking stride or stopping a conversation, just trying to see what his Soul Perception could do. They trained together in the mornings (although getting Rei awake before he actually _had_ to be was still a challenge on most days) and in the evenings: unarmed combat and wavelength control and cycling through weapon forms, learning the ins and outs of each one.

At some point, special weekly training sessions with Sid became part of their routine, mostly featuring learning how to move quietly and strike before being noticed. Rei, Ayame noticed, was incredibly quiet when he had to be, and was a lot more tactical than she had appreciated. She learned to love hearing the words 'I've been thinking…' coming from him, because those three words usually preceded some awesome application of her own weapon forms or their partnership that she hadn't considered it before.

"I've been thinking," he said one evening, as he was sitting cross-legged on the floor of their apartment, eyes closed as the two of them focused on keeping their wavelengths in sync, trying to maintain the form of the Cloak of Shadows. They'd figured out pretty early on in their training that the Cloak was too difficult of a form to maintain if both of them weren't focused on it, that it wasn't something that Ayame could do on her own. Part of the problem with the Cloak had been the amount of moving parts it had, its nebulous form making it difficult for Ayame to keep track of everything.

At Rei's suggestion, she'd tried cutting out non-essential things, like making the Cloak hover an inch off of his skin. Having it rest directly on top of him felt awkward, because she was practically _hugging_ him like this, but it did give her the mental space to focus on other things.

" _Oh?"_ she asked, her eyes closed from within her soul space as she tried to maintain the Cloak's form.

"We're supposed to be training for covert operations," Rei said. "So isn't having to _speak_ to change weapon forms kind of…contrary to our purposes?"

She cracked open an eye, even though she didn't need to do that to see him in this place. _"You've got a better idea?"_ she asked. _"I can't exactly read your mind."_

"Maybe," said Rei. He opened his eyes, and she felt his concentration shatter, the weight of the Cloak of Shadows falling back on her. It flickered unsteadily as he stretched out his hand. "Ninjato Mode?"

She shifted quickly, relieved to be something a little bit more stable. Rei's hand closed around the hilt of the shorter blade, and he held it out away from him, studying it. Then his thumb moved, tapping on the hilt.

"Can you feel that?" he asked.

Ayame frowned. _"A little,"_ she said. _"It tickles…"_

"How about this?" Rei asked, tapping out a distinct pattern, two knocks with his thumb and then a swipe across the hilt. "What if we say this pattern means 'Katana Mode'?"

" _And make one for all of the weapon forms?"_ Ayame asked, following the thought to its logical conclusion.

"Hand signals too," Rei said. "In case I'm not holding you at the time."

She frowned, thinking about it. It would be more to memorize, but if their opponents didn't know what was coming…

" _You know_ ," she said. _"That just might work…"_

* * *

The months wore on, days and weeks bleeding into one another. Rei and Ayame went on a handful of missions, first with Clark, Vayne and the others and then increasingly, as they grew in confidence and ability, by themselves. Ayame left for Europe for the holidays—her parents had been transferred there suddenly, and because of that hadn't been able to make it back to Death City—and returned with an armful of ninja scrolls obtained from the Nakatsukasa Clan, which the two of them studied intently. Clark started special training with Stein, without Vayne, to master his own personal wavelength attack. Morgan, to everyone's surprise and relief, started opening up more around them, becoming almost _talkative_ compared to how she used to be.

And then, on a surprisingly cold morning in early February, Richard came to talk to Rei.

"Hey," the other boy said, approaching Rei with a sheepish smile on his face. Rei jumped, but it was more out of habit than anything. Richard didn't scare him anymore, and the other boy hadn't given anyone any trouble in a long while.

"Hey," Rei said, turning towards him. "How are things?"

Richard looked embarrassed to even be there. He was dressed in clothes that resembled a school uniform now, like Rei himself and the majority of the N.O.T. class. "Things are going well," he said, giving Rei a strained smile. "Getting better. I—um—I have to thank you for that. I know you did something to convince Shinigami-sama not to expel me. I think that's the only reason I'm still here."

Rei looked away, uncomfortable. He rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't do anything," he said. "Just told the truth."

"Still, said Richard. "Thank you."

"No problem," said Rei. He took a deep breath, still embarrassed at the attention, and changed the subject. "You find a new partner yet?" he asked, looking up.

"Nope," said Richard. "It doesn't really matter much for the N.O.T. class anyway. Thinking of going solo."

"Yeah?" Rei asked.

"Yeah," said Richard. "I mean, I'm a gauntlet, right? It's not like I'd do much more with a meister than I would on my own…" He trailed off at the end of that statement, his smile fading as he looked away. "Listen, Ev—Rei, about what happened…"

"Don't mention it," Rei said.

"But…" Richard began.

"Really. Don't mention it."

"Alright." Richard drew in a breath and then let it out, settling his weight as though he had come to a decision. "Alright. There's, um…there's actually something I think you should know about."

"Hmm?" asked Rei, looking up.

"I think Grayson was mixed up in something bad," Richard said. "Before…before all that happened, he started talking to someone online. I'm not sure how he got this person's information or anything, just…they started talking. I'm not sure what they were talking about, but Gray…changed. He started getting meaner, angrier. Started becoming more violent."

Rei privately thought Grayson had always been mean, angry and violent, but he kept that thought to himself. "This person was?" he asked.

"He never said," said Richard. "Gray just called him the Thief. He sent Gray a letter once, though. I never saw the letter, but this card came with it." He reached into his pocket, drawing out a rectangular card and handing it to Rei. Rei glanced at it, turning it over. On one side, the reverse side, there was a sun against a blue background. On the other side was a drawing of man, and a label: _The Fool._

"A tarot card?" Rei asked, staring at it.

"I don't know," said Richard, shivering. "It always creeped me out. Anyway, now you know."

Rei looked up, about to ask Richard what he was expected to do with this and why Richard had given it to him, but he was already leaving, walking quickly away from Rei as if he couldn't stand to talk to him anymore.

* * *

"You're still thinking about that?" Ayame asked, frowning at Rei from where he was seated on the couch. Rei held the card Richard had given him in his hand, turning it over to study the back before looking at the front again. It seemed like an ordinary card, to his eye, but he couldn't help feeling like there was something he was missing.

"Richard seemed to think it was important," Rei said.

" _Richard_ is trying to stop you from thinking that he's a worthless low-life," said Ayame.

"I didn't think that," Rei said, sitting up so that she could dust the lampshade beside him, "…much."

"Grayson probably just joined a gang somewhere," Ayame said, shrugging. "It's no big deal."

"Yeah," Rei said, studying the card again. "Probably."

The timer rang from the kitchen, an obnoxious beeping noise rising up from the room. Rei put the card away and got to his feet with a sigh, running to get dinner out of the oven.

* * *

They were training on the rooftops of Death City one day in April when Ayame first broached the idea of Japan. She was in Cloak of Shadows mode, the Cloak fluttering around Rei as he leaped over the narrow gap between two rooftops, landing with surprising silence on the other side. The Cloak muffled sound, an interesting property that Rei and Ayame had discovered during their training. He supposed that since it was supposed to be ninja garb, it made sense.

The Cloak's form wavered as Rei's concentration broke, then become somewhat solid again as he got it back. "Japan?" he asked.

" _Yeah…"_ Inside her soul space, Ayame was blushing, although she knew Rei couldn't see her. _"You know how my grandparents are part of this whole ninja clan and stuff. If you wanted to keep training, that might be a good place to do it. I was thinking we could go in the summer."_

Rei frowned, considering this as he tried to gauge the distance between the building he was standing on and the next. He gripped one of the Cloak's tendrils loosely in one hand, spinning the kunai that formed at the end in slow circles as he thought about it. "For the whole summer?" he asked.

" _Why not?"_ Ayame asked. _"I like grandma and grandpa, and you're always talking about how you've never lived outside of Death City."_

That was true. He had mentioned it, a handful of times. And he had to admit, spending a summer in Japan training with ninjas sounded…pretty awesome. But a whole summer with Ayame? Vayne would never let him live it down.

" _Rei?"_ Ayame asked, frowning at him.

"I'll think about it," Rei said. "It sounds cool." He gestured at the building across from them. "Do you think we can make that jump?"

Ayame's frown deepened as she studied the gap. _"Can I make this jump, or can you make this jump?"_ she asked. _"Because no offense, Rei, but it's still a little wide for you."_

"Yeah, I thought so," Rei said. He frowned, his eyes drifting from the kunai in his hand, connected by the tendril to the Cloak of Shadows, to the other shadow tendril that hung in the air just out within reach. Kunai were blades, but they were also climbing pitons, weren't they? And the way the Cloak connected to each of them more or less formed a rope, one that could become longer or shorter as needed.

" _Rei…?"_ Ayame asked.

"I have an idea," Rei said. He grabbed hold of the other tendril, a kunai forming in his other hand.

He threw the kunai as he leaped, both blades embedding themselves into the rooftop of the building.

* * *

Summer came before either of them knew it, and the next thing Rei knew, he was boarding a plane to Japan, sitting next to Ayame and listening as his partner, dressed in her summer clothes of white shorts with a gold star on the left leg and a pink shirt that said 'ROCK STAR', went on and on about how excited she was that they were actually doing this and all of the cool things that they were going to do there. She fell asleep somewhere over the Pacific, snoring softly as Rei read a few more chapters of his book before deciding to join her. By the time they arrived in Japan, he was more than ready to get off the plane, but there was still a train ride and then a bus to go before arriving at Ayame's grandparents' house.

The moment they did arrive, and Ayame saw her grandfather waiting for her by the gate, she dropped her bag, leaving Rei to catch it as she let out an excited shriek and ran toward him with open arms.

"Grandpa!" she said.

"Ayame, is that you?" Sanjuro Nakatsukasa caught her around the waist, spinning slightly with her momentum before setting her down on the ground again. "You've gotten so big."

Ayame grinned, standing up taller as he placed his hand on her head and leaving Rei to pull her bag up the hill by himself, dragging it behind him with his own bag. By the time he arrived, he was sweaty from the heat and the climb, and still jetlagged from the flight. Not, in his opinion, the best time for him to be making a good impression on _anyone_.

But Ayame smiled at him anyway as he approached, taking hold of his arm and pulling him towards them. "Grandpa, this is my meister, Rei. Rei, this is my grandfather, Sanjuro."

"It's good to meet you, Rei," said Sanjuro with a smile, smoothly inclining his head in a polite bow. Rei felt intensely awkward for half a second as he tried to copy the movement. "Why don't you go inside and put down your things? We'll discuss training tomorrow."

* * *

The summer days quickly settled into a routine. Rei would go off with her grandfather or some of her other family members in the mornings to train, Ayame joining them on occasion or sometimes training on her own. In the afternoons, Rei would study something in the library, or help her grandmother out in the kitchen (Ayame was still hopeless in the kitchen). Ayame helped clean or had tea with her grandfather, telling stories about her parents and all the adventures they had recently gotten into.

On afternoons when they were both free, they went into town, or spent entirely too long exploring the surrounding countryside, catching fireflies and finding mountain streams and exploring old, familiar trails. They took a day off training to take a train down to the beach and splash around in the water (Ayame splashed. Rei sat on the sand and read until she dragged him in), and took another couple of days off to go see Tokyo and Kyoto, Rei dragging her along to see museums, shrines, and historical monuments and Ayame repaying the favor by forcing him to come along and hold her bags while she shopped in Shibuya. They ordered ramen from an actual ramen shop, and Ayame giggled at the embarrassed blush on Rei's face as he tried to talk his way through their order in his accented Japanese, which wasn't really as bad as Rei thought it was, but try telling _him_ that.

"I'm a quarter-Japanese," Rei said, still red-faced as their ramen arrived and he hunched down over it, eating to hide his expression from her.

"I know," said Ayame, still grinning.

"I just never really picked up the language much," he said.

"I know," she said again.

Training resumed and increased in intensity, her grandfather starting Rei on a particularly evil training dummy with three rotating sections that spun when struck and wooden spokes sticking out of each section. It was meant to teach reflexes and good reaction, but Ayame could tell right away that it frustrated the heck out of Rei. She watched as the machine knocked him to the ground again and felt a twinge of guilt, wondering if she might be pushing him too hard, but he picked himself up off the ground without a word, a discipline that she hadn't seen from him even in their shared training sessions, and she smiled in secret pride. Life went on.

On the Fourth of July, her birthday, they took the night off to celebrate, setting off sparklers in the family courtyard. Ayame wore a blue kimono her grandmother had given her, pinning up her hair in gold chopsticks instead of her usual side-ponytail. Rei gave her a bracelet he'd spotted in Kyoto and blushed even darker than he had at the ramen shop as he did it, and Ayame found herself smiling as she put it on, her heart dancing a little jig somewhere inside her. Her grandmother cooked a traditional dinner for them and her parents messaged in to say hi and her grandfather had somehow managed to procure an ice cream cake that had fireworks on it because the Fourth of July was generally _awesome_ and that somehow managed to get smeared on every possible surface _except_ Ayame's new kimono, and all in all it was generally the best day ever.

She woke up on that night to the sound of muffled thumps and muttered curses and rolled over in her futon to find the sliding door spread wide open and Rei in the moonlit courtyard. He was fighting the dummy again, and she watched as Rei struck at it with the heel of his hand, causing the top piece to rotate, then ducked and let out a muffled curse when he ducked too late and one of the spokes clipped the top of his head. He straightened up, rubbed at it and tried again.

Ayame smiled, rolling over and going back to sleep.

* * *

It seemed like it would never end, and then suddenly it did, and it was their last day in Japan. Rei never did get the hang of the training dummy, but he had managed to get to the point where he could get a few strikes in before being clobbered, and Sanjuro assured him repeatedly that he was getting there. His wounded pride was slightly helped by the fact that the first time Sanjuro had called on Ayame for a demonstration, she swaggered up to the dummy, took a swing, and promptly got smacked in the face. She recovered quickly and kicked the dummy's butt the second time around, but still scowled whenever anyone mentioned that.

They spent their last day packing, shopping in town for any last minute souvenirs before heading back to the house for the evening. Rei walked around the grounds for a bit after dinner, and then not having much else to do, stepped into the kitchen to see if Ayame's grandmother needed any help with the dishes, but she waved him off with a smile and told him to enjoy the night. He ran into Ayame on the way back to the wide, open room that had been set aside for them and somehow ended up like this, sitting together in the grass fields behind the compound, staring up at the stars.

They were brighter here, somehow, away from the city lights. They reminded him of the stars all the way out in the desert, away from Death City, but not nearly as harsh. He sat there in the grass and watched the stars, thinking about heading back to Death City, about being second years. His parents had done a lot of things as second years at the DWMA. He hoped no one expected him to do the same.

"You're worrying again," Ayame said, from where she sat cross-legged next to him.

"I'm not," Rei said, frowning at her. "How would you even be able to tell anyway?"

"I can hear the wheels turning in your head," Ayame said with a playful grin, spinning her index fingers around each other. "They're going _'oh, what if I'm not good enough to be at the DWMA, and what if my parents disown me, and what if Ayame realizes I'm not as pretty and awesome as she is and walks out_ _on me, wah, wah, wah.'_."

He shoved at her, but without any real force. "That's not funny," he said.

Ayame snickered. "I thought it was funny," she said.

"Not even a little," Rei said, although a part of him _did_ find it a little funny.

She shook her head with a smile, shifting so that she was sitting with her knees pulled up close to her chest. "Don't worry about tomorrow, Rei. Just be here, now. Isn't this nice?"

Rei frowned, but relented, looking up at the stars. "Yeah…" he said. "It is."

It wasn't easy to stop worrying. It was a part of who he was; he was _always_ thinking about the future. But looking at Ayame here and now, watching her as she looked up at the stars with a small, carefree smile on her face, it felt a little bit easier. He found himself relaxing, his breathing evening out as he joined her.

"See?" Ayame asked, not looking at him. "This is much better, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Rei said, his eyes still on the stars.

She exhaled, and then, eyes half-lidded, relaxed into him, leaning backwards so that her head rested on his chest, some of her weight pressing against him. Rei tensed, his breath catching and his heart racing as all the blood flowed to his face.

"A-Ayame!" he said. "What are you—?"

"Shh," said Ayame, her voice soft. "Relax, Rei."

She closed her eyes.

He took a deep breath, and then he did.


	15. Visions and Bells; Welcome Back to DWMA!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My primary thought when writing this chapter: "Ugh, youths." If you find some of the characters' behavior funny, carry on. If you find them a touch annoying, remember that they're fourteen and stupid.

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

**Visions and Bells; Welcome Back to DWMA!**

* * *

"Hello, DWMA!" Ayame said, as she burst in through the school's front doors, one arm spread wide and the other holding her textbooks close to her chest. "Your queen has returned!"

Rei gave her a sidelong glance as he followed her into the school, scratching the back of his head with one hand as he tried to blink sleep out of his eyes. They had arrived in Death City yesterday, and jet lag had hit him hard this morning. "You're actually _excited_ about the first day of class?" he asked.

"Well, yeah," Ayame said, blinking at him. "I own this school, after all. Here watch this." She held out the arm that held her textbooks with a dramatic sigh, taking a few steps ahead of Rei. "Oh, I wish someone would carry my books for me…"

She slowly uncurled her fingers, her books spilling out of her hand. Before they could hit the ground, a veritable mob of boys from the N.O.T. class appeared, falling all over themselves to snatch the books from the air.

"I've got it, Ayame-chan!"

"I'll carry your books for you!"

"Ayame is so cool…"

Rei shot the group a disturbed glance, sidestepping them carefully and moving to catch up with Ayame, who was wearing a smug smirk.

"I swear, you need to stop encouraging them," he said.

"Why?" Ayame asked, deliberately sweeping her hair back with one hand as she drew herself up taller. "They're perfectly justified in wanting to celebrate _me_."

"Please, I've seen you lift a tree," Rei muttered, stuffing his hands into his pockets as Ayame's fan club trailed behind them, shooting him hateful looks. "You don't need someone to carry your books."

Ayame bristled, scowling at him. "Well, maybe I _want_ someone to carry my books for me, Rei!" she said. "Did you ever think of that?"

Rei let out an exasperated sigh. "Do you want me to carry your books for you, Ayame?"

"No!" Ayame said. "I can carry my own books!"

She stomped off, her fists clenched at either side of her. Rei watched her go, confused and a little annoyed. There were some days, he decided, when he would _never_ understand Ayame.

He stepped forward, about to catch up with her, and stopped as he sensed something moving behind him, coming straight for him at high speed.

"Reeeeeeiiiiiii!" Vayne shouted, launching into a tackle.

Rei ducked to the side, sliding smoothly out of the way. His arm moved without thinking, sweeping upwards as Vayne came flying through and slamming into Vayne's legs. The blow flipped him over, and he landed in a heap further down the hallway, the group of students that were standing there expertly parting to make a hole for him. Rei straightened up, his heart pounding, and looked over. Vayne was grinning at him, despite lying on his back and looking at Rei upside down.

"What the hell, man?" Rei asked, walking over to him and extending a hand.

"Just checking to make sure you were _actually_ training over break," Vayne said, taking Rei's hand and letting him pull him up. "How are things going with our little princess?" His eyes flicked meaningfully towards Ayame.

Rei glanced at her. She was still walking steadily away from him, her back straight and her entourage trailing behind her, but she had slowed down significantly now and was shooting him a hurt look, as if…she wanted him to catch up? Ugh, he _really_ didn't understand her sometimes.

"I don't know," Rei said. "She's being really weird right now."

As if she had heard him, which given Ayame's hearing and the distance between them, she probably had, she raised her head and turned away, continuing to walk. Vayne looked from Rei to Ayame with a grin.

"Relationship troubles," he said. "I see."

"There are no 'relationship troubles', because there is no 'relationship'," Rei snapped at Vayne. "Stop _doing_ that."

"What's going on?" Clark asked, coming down the hallway behind Vayne. "Who's doing what?"

"Rei and Ayame are having a fight," Vayne said.

"Oh," said Clark, adjusting his glasses. "A lover's quarrel, I see. Well, don't worry. I'm an expert on those sorts of—."

"Thanks, but I'll pass," said Rei, brushing past Clark before he could finish.

Vayne grinned, turning to follow him.

"Probably the smart choice," he said.

Behind them, Clark looked crestfallen.

* * *

Rei found Ayame again in the classroom, already seated in her usual place. She had turned around in her seat, both of her arms resting on Morgan and Cassie's desk behind her as she leaned forward and talked to them excitedly. Whatever they were talking about must have been good, because Cassie raised her hand to her mouth and giggled, and he could have sworn Morgan was blushing. Vayne and Clark followed him as he made his way towards them slowly, an eye on the clock. They still had plenty of time before class was supposed to start.

"I wonder who's babysitting the new first years," Vayne muttered as they walked past the desks and up the stairs. "A couple of Shibuko kids made E.A.T."

"It would be Class Full Moon that's open this year, isn't it?" asked Clark. "So that would be Marie-sensei's class. Likely, it's going to be Sid-sensei again, though, just like it was with us."

"Huh…" said Vayne. "I guess so."

"Yo, _iinchou!"_ someone called out to them as they passed. Clark tensed, his eyes widening.

"Stop calling me that!" he shouted back.

As Clark waded into the rows of desks to deal with the students, Rei turned around, frowning at Vayne. "What's all that 'iinchou' stuff about?" he asked.

"Someone found two volumes of _Death Note_ in Clark's bag over summer training," Vayne whispered, as he pulled up beside Rei. "Since then, they've decided he's a closet weeb and started calling him 'iinchou'. You know, because he's class rep."

Rei glanced over at Clark, who was engaged in a heated argument with the instigator, all while two students behind him made kissy faces over his shoulder and rattled out stock fangirl Japanese phrases, like ' _kawaii desu ne',_ and _'senpai, notice me?'_ He looked back at Vayne.

"What's the big deal?" he asked. "This is a Japanese-style school. We wear uniforms, sometimes. Shinigami-sama is Shinigami-sama, senseis are senseis...Of course that's what Clark's title is."

"Yeah, but you know how he is about his image," said Vayne, shrugging. "Poor guy would be popular in any other school."

Rei refrained from pointing out that Clark _was_ popular, just with the N.O.T. students who were more prone to being impressed by things like this. It probably wouldn't help his case much. Instead, he sighed, shaking his head and reluctantly making his way to his seat. Ayame glanced over at him as he dropped down beside her, but instead of acknowledging him, sniffed and turned so that her back was more towards him as she continued with her conversation.

"Are you going to tell me what I did wrong?" Rei asked her under his breath.

"If you need me to tell you," Ayame replied, "then there's no point." She turned back to Morgan and Cassie, picking up the thread of their conversation as if she had never left it in the first place. Rei sighed, raising his hand to his temple and subtly making their agreed-upon hand signal for _'that makes no sense'._

Ayame kicked him.

Vayne slipped into the seat next to Rei, giving him a sympathetic look as he pulled his notebook out of his bag and set it on the desk in front of him. "What are you guys talking about?" he asked, twisting around in his seat and inserting himself into the conversation.

"Cassie!" said Ayame, speaking cheerfully as if she hadn't just kicked Rei in the shin. "She met a _boy_ over break."

"Oh, no way," said Vayne, leaning forward. "Who is he, Cass? Does he go to this school?"

"Well, I'm not one to kiss and tell," said Cassie, her face coloring slightly as she turned away coyly, covering her mouth. The coy expression vanished as she turned back towards them. "But yes!"

"He's an upperclassman," Morgan explained. "In Class Crescent Moon."

"Oh, neat," said Vayne. "What's his name? Maybe I know him."

"You probably don't know him," said Cassie, leaning forward. "But just in case, his name's E..."

"What's going on?" Clark asked, coming up behind Vayne and quickly cutting the conversation short. Cassie drew back, shooting Clark a look that Rei could have sworn was a little guilty as she slipped her headphones back over her ears and started reading. Morgan turned to the side and started drumming her fingers on the desk, the universal signal for 'I want no part of this'. Vayne looked over at Clark as the other boy sat down next to him.

"What?" Clark asked, brows raised at Vayne.

"Tell you later, man," Vayne promised, turning back around in his seat. "Class's starting anyway."

Rei turned to the front, and sure enough, Maka was there, setting her things on the desk and looking over at the class with a smile on her face. "I'm glad to see you're all back in one place after summer training," she said. "And since you're all second years now and have had some time to hone your skills—unless you spent the entire summer playing video games and sitting on the couch, _Jonas_ —," Jonas let out a little groan from his seat as Maka turned to glare at him, "—I thought we'd start things off with a mission. The new first years are going to take the next couple of days to get organized, so while they're at that, please take the time to select a mission from the appropriate section of the board. Remember that some of you didn't meet your quotas last year and will need to do remedial classes if this keeps up— _Jonas._ "

Jonas groaned again, but he wasn't the only one. A handful of the people in the class looked worried about the prospect of remedial classes. Rei leaned back in his seat, glad to not be worried about something for once. He and Ayame had gone well beyond their mission quota for their first year, enough that they could probably spend half of this year goofing off before they had to worry.

Which, unless he could manage to get back into Ayame's good graces, was probably what they were going to have to do. He sighed as she stood up with the others, still refusing to look at him, and followed them as they made their way over to the mission board.

* * *

"I spoke with Tsubaki a few months ago," Sid said, speaking in a low voice from where he stood next to Spirit in the hallway. They stopped talking as a group of second-years moved past, heading for the mission board, then instantly picked up the thread of conversation again. "I think she understands what we were trying to say. She'll keep her eyes open. And she'll make sure Black Star doesn't hear anything until we're sure something is happening."

"Good…" said Spirit, matching Sid's low tone. "Black Star is the opposite of subtle." He paused to smile and wave at a group of third-year girls as they passed, his smile faltering slightly as they shot him disgusted glances and moved away. "Do you think Maka is right?"

"About what?" Sid asked, frowning.

"About me looking like a creeper."

Sid sweatdropped. "I don't think that's what we're talking about now, Spirit." A beat passed. "But yes, you do sometimes look like a creeper."

"I'm not _old_ , Sid!" Spirit protested, straightening up and placing a hand on his chest. "I'm too young to be the creepy old man."

"You're in your fifties," Sid said. "And you have three grandchildren."

"Yes, but I was just smiling at them!" said Spirit, gesturing at the retreating third-years. "And I work here."

"Technically, you're retired," Sid pointed out.

" _Semi-_ retired!" Spirit corrected, resting his hands on his waist. "It's not like I can trust that damn Soul Eater to take care of anything important."

"Who can't be trusted?" asked a voice from behind Spirit. One that sounded suspiciously like his son-in-law.

Spirit turned his head to see Soul scowling at him. The white-haired Death Scythe stood just over Shinigami's shoulder, and said shinigami was currently frowning at him, brows raised in question. He quickly jumped, throwing an arm around Sid's shoulder and doing his best to look innocent.

"I was just…talking to my friend Sid here about how awesome retirement is," Spirit said with a grin, patting Sid on the chest with his free hand. "Nothing to see here, Shinigami-sama. I promise!"

Sid's response was to grab Spirit's arm and firmly remove it from around him, his expression not changing. Shinigami looked between the two of them, decidedly unconvinced.

"Spirit," he said. "I'm only going to ask you this once. Have you been moving my troops around without my permission?"

"What?" Spirit asked. "Don't be silly. Where would you get that idea? I would never, and I mean _never_ undermine your authority in that manner, Shinigami-sama."

Shinigami snorted softly, turning to walk away. "Yeah right, and I'm the pope," he muttered under his breath. Soul snickered, turning to follow him. Spirit scowled after the younger Death Scythe, waiting with arms folded until they had rounded the corner and were out of earshot before turning to Sid.

"See!" he said, gesturing after Soul. "Can't be trusted!"

"Right…" Sid drew out the word slowly, as if he wasn't entirely convinced. He turned back towards Spirit. "So, the situation…" he began.

"Yeah, well, I already have Asuza in on things. She's working on consolidating her…uh, resources in East Asia. I've been working on trying to get the others, but you know some of them can't keep their mouths shut…"

* * *

The one-star section of the mission board looked especially full after break, with mission sheets overlapping each other as the board strained to contain them. Rei scanned the board for a mission that looked right for him and Ayame, painfully aware that she was still refusing to look at him.

As he searched, Cassie reached over and plucked a sheet from the board, turning towards Morgan.

"What about this one?" she asked. "It's in Morocco. I've never been to Morocco."

Morgan made a face. "It's hot in Morocco," she said.

"Morgan, it's hot _here_ ," Cassie said in response. "We live in a _desert_."

"I know," said Morgan. "That's what I was hoping to get away from." She exhaled, reaching over and taking the sheet from Cassie with a long-suffering sigh.

While Morgan looked the sheet over, Vayne turned towards Rei. He kept his voice to a whisper, glancing meaningfully at Ayame. "What are you going to do about…?"

"I don't know," Rei said, in the same whisper. "I don't even know what she's mad about. We were fine earlier."

"Well, work through it," said Vayne, pretending to lean in to one of the mission sheets to take a closer look. "What was the last thing you said or did before Ayame got mad?"

"The last thing I said…" Rei frowned, thinking it over. "Something about her fan club, I think. Uh…they were falling all over her, and I told her to stop encouraging them."

Vayne's eyes widened as if he had just realized something. "Maybe that's it," he said, whispering furiously. "Maybe she was trying to get your attention and then—."

"Hey, Vayne," said Clark from the other side of the board, interrupting him. "Come take a look at this mission."

Vayne muttered a curse under his breath and turned to leave. Rei grabbed at his sleeve. "Hey," he hissed. "Wait a minute. What were you saying?"

Vayne turned back towards Rei, clearly torn.

"I'm going to sign us up for it if that's alright with you," said Clark, pulling the sheet off the board.

"Wait—no! It might have ghosts in it—." He shot Rei an apologetic look, tugging his sleeve out of Rei's grasp. "Sorry man, gotta go."

Rei muttered something unsavory under his breath, turning back to the mission board. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ayame let out a huff, turning away from him.

Alright, he could fix this. He just needed to talk to Ayame. It wasn't like they hadn't had fights before, and they would _definitely_ get through this in time to ace the mission and not start the year off with a failing grade. His teachers _definitely_ wouldn't think he was a slacker and his mother _definitely_ wouldn't be incredibly disappointed in him. All he had to do was keep his cool and _not_ lose his temper, and Ayame would come around.

He picked a mission from the board almost at random, barely giving it a glance to make sure it was one he could do before turning towards Ayame. "Hey, Ayame, how about this?" he asked. "It's—uh—some kind of disturbance. In Notre Dame."

"I don't know, Rei," Ayame said, in the sing-song voice she used when she was especially annoyed. "I've been thinking I should just go on a mission on my own. You know, since I _clearly_ shouldn't ever need or want anyone else's help."

Rei felt a flash of irritation and turned towards her, his hand tightening around the mission sheet. "Alright, _what_ is this about?" he asked, annoyed enough that he barely registered Vayne making warning motions from behind Ayame's back. Cassie and Morgan had fallen silent, and were also watching them now. "Is this still about your stupid books?"

"It was _never_ about the books, Rei!"

"You know what, if that's how you're going to act, then maybe you should go on your own mission," said Rei.

"You know what?" said Ayame. "If that's how _you're_ going to act, maybe we just shouldn't go on a damn mission at all!"

"Fine!" said Rei, slamming the Notre Dame mission back onto the mission board. The board rattled.

"Fine!" said Ayame, her voice slightly louder. She spun on heel, walking away. A high-pitched shriek echoed through the halls as she rounded the corner. Rei clenched his fists tightly, his nails digging into his palm, and squeezed his eyes shut until his own anger left him, until he stopped seeing red.

When he opened them, Vayne and Clark were giving him sympathetic looks, and Morgan and Cassie were staring down the hallway after Ayame.

"So much for that…" Rei said.

* * *

He came home to a darkened apartment and a new crack on the wall in the foyer, next to the shelf where they usually left their shoes. Ayame's own boots were scattered over the floor, as if she had kicked them off after punching the wall and stomped into the house. He stripped off his own shoes, moving as quietly as possible, and walked into the living room.

She was lying on the couch, her face covered by both her arm and a pillow.

"I screwed up again, didn't I?" she asked, her voice sounding thick, the way it always sounded after she had been screaming. Or crying.

He took that as a sign that it was safe to approach and hesitantly sat down at the end of the couch, next to her feet. She didn't look at him, but she drew her feet closer to herself, giving him room.

"You weren't the only one," he said, scratching the back of his neck. "I…uh…lost my temper too."

"Can we just…" She paused for a breath. "…start the whole day all over again?"

"I don't know," Rei said. "It was hard enough waking up the first time."

She did kick him then, but not hard. Rei glanced over at her and saw her glaring at him from under the pillow, her eyes red-rimmed. The corner of her lip twitched, as if she was trying to fight off a smile.

"Idiot," she said. "Don't joke around while I'm trying to apologize."

"I'll stop joking around," Rei promised. "But only if you let me apologize too."

"Apology accepted," said Ayame. She sniffed, then pushed the pillow off of her face, sitting up. She combed her fingers through her now-tangled hair, straightening out the knots. "I had Vayne reserve the Notre Dame mission for us."

"You talked to Vayne?" Rei asked, brows raising.

"He sent me a text." Ayame smiled faintly, her eyes moving to the coffee table where her phone rested. "He wanted to make sure I was okay. That kid acts like everyone's big brother, you know?"

"He's got a lot of little siblings," said Rei. "I don't think he can help it."

"Yeah," said Ayame. She drew in a long, rattling breath, her hands on her knees. "I'm sorry, Rei..."

"Don't worry about it," Rei said, frowning at her. "But are you going to tell me what that was all about? Because, and I'm just being honest here, you _were_ acting kind of weird."

She tensed, a blush coloring her cheeks. She still wasn't looking at him. "No, I don't think I will," Ayame said. "At least…you know, not now. It was really stupid, Rei. Like really, really stupid. I was being dumb. Just leave it at that."

He wasn't convinced, but he knew better than to push Ayame. So despite the fact that he was still curious, despite the fact that he didn't fully understand what had gotten Ayame so upset in the first place, he let it go.

"Okay," he said, nodding. "Does that mean we're good now?"

"As long as you make dinner tonight," Ayame said, smiling again.

"I make dinner _every_ night, Ayame."

"Exactly."

* * *

_It was raining._

_Rei clung to the space between the two bell towers of Notre Dame, clad in Ayame's Cloak of Shadows form. The rain plastered his hair to his face and his clothes to his skin, water mingling with the blood of his injuries. The Cloak's two kunai were embedded in the walls on either side of him, holding him in place as he breathed hard, scanning the darkness._

_A shadow moved to his right, to his left. His head turned to catch the movement, but he was tired and hurt. He sagged there where he was standing, his fingers wrapped around the cords that bound the Cloak to the walls._

_Someone laughed in the darkness. Rei launched himself into the air away from that laugh, the Cloak's shadowy cords tightening and rebounding like a slingshot. He raised his hand, the Cloak around him dissolving and forming Ayame's katana form as he scanned the rooftop below him, looking for the source of the laugh._

_The shadows that rushed out of the darkness tore him apart._

_Tendrils of darkness punched through his chest, ripping through him before he could even scream. His eyes widened, the last second of awareness, and then the tendrils moved apart and he vanished in a cloud of viscera and blood._

Morgan woke up screaming.

She didn't even realize she was screaming until Cassie was in her room, kneeling in front of her bed in a panic, until Quoth reached over and nipped her ear almost hard enough to draw blood. The sound of her own voice echoed in her ears, her heart pounding as the screaming quieted to a whimper, her hands holding onto her blankets with a vise-like grip.

Cassie was smoothing her hair to the side, her blue eyes wide. "What's wrong?" she asked. "Morgan, sweetie, what's wrong?"

Morgan opened her mouth to answer and realized that she was shaking. Her first thought was to reach below the blanket, fumbling for the bracelet Angela had given her, but she was still wearing it. She could still feel its magic pulsing through her, keeping her own Pull of Magic at bay. So that couldn't be it. It couldn't have been a relapse of the Pull, making her dream about death and destruction again.

"Morgan?" Cassie asked, sounding more concerned now. "Morgan, you're really starting to scare me…"

Morgan shook her head, looking away from Cassie. It had been more than just a dream. She was sure of that. She looked into Quoth's black eyes, the way her raven familiar watched her, head quirked, looked out the window and saw a flurry of black wings, the flock of ravens that currently inhabited Death City drawn to her scream. She dispersed them with a thought before someone could see, her heart still pounding and her tongue thick in her throat.

The whole thing tasted like magic. Like her family's magic, like that peculiar sensitivity they all had to war and conflict and death.

She turned towards Cassie then, gripping onto her weapon's arms. Cassie flinched and recoiled, and Morgan realized that she had been holding too tightly, quickly loosening her grip. "Rei," she said, meeting Cassie's eyes. "Have Rei and Ayame left yet?"

"They—they just flew out a few hours ago," Cassie said. "They should be arriving in France now."

Morgan released Cassie, practically throwing herself out of bed as she glanced at the clock. Five in the morning. Her mind raced, quickly converting that to French time. It would be midafternoon in Paris now, and it had been nighttime in her vision. She still had time if she hurried, if she and Cassie left _now._

"We're leaving," she said, grabbing her things and preparing to dress quickly. "Get ready to fly. We need to get to France."

" _France_?" Cassie spluttered. "But what about Morocco?"

Morgan didn't even look back at her. She began to change into her dress, heedless of Cassie's presence in her room. "I'll explain on the way."

* * *

Rei pulled himself up the darkened back wall of the cathedral, the cords formed by Ayame's Cloak of Shadows pulling him up the side of the building so quickly that for an instant all he heard was the rush of the wind. He landed on the rain-slicked tiles of the rooftop, the water making his footing treacherous but also further masking the sound of his arrival. The kunai embedded in the rooftop on either side of him came free as the cords shortened drastically, and he caught them out of the air before they could dissolve, ducking into a sheltered space behind one of the gargoyles.

Around him, the rain continued to pour, a constant deluge that had already soaked him to his skin. From inside her soul space, Ayame made a face as the water continued to pour around them.

" _Ugh,"_ she said. _"Couldn't have asked for better weather, huh?"_

"Why are you complaining?" Rei asked, keeping his voice low enough that the water, in combination with the sound-masking properties of the Cloak of Shadows, would drown it out. "I'm the one getting soaked." He blinked water out of his eyes, letting go of the kunai. They recoiled into the Cloak immediately, fading into the mass of shadows that made up its form.

" _Hey, I'm getting soaked too,"_ Ayame said. _"It's just that I can't feel it right now on account of me not actually being completely physical in this form."_

He raised a finger, their hand signal for _focus_ , and closed his eyes, sending out the ripples of his Soul Perception. His clairvoyance threw the space around him into stark detail, made fuzzier than usual by the interference presented by the rain. He could still see the shape of the rooftop, the outlines of the gargoyles that surrounded them and the two large bell towers that fronted the street, but the impressions he received were not as clear as he would have liked.

It wasn't ideal, but it would have to do.

He narrowed his field of vision, something that he was still learning to do, but could do more or less effectively now. Instead of casting the ripples out in 360-degree circles around him, he focused in on the bell towers, his clairvoyance fading away in front of him where he didn't need it and extending behind him where he did. His Soul Perception threw up an image of the towers, the ripples of his consciousness slipping through the windows where they could and giving him a basic, if vague idea of the inside of them. He saw the outline of two of the bells, caught the impression of windows, but nothing of their target. Rei opened his eyes, letting out a hiss of frustration.

" _Problem?"_ Ayame asked.

"It's this place," Rei said, scowling. "I can't get a good read on the area. Let me try to get higher."

He reached for the kunai again, closing his fingers around them as they materialized out of shadow, then threw them at the tall, thin spire that protruded from the top of the cathedral. They embedded themselves into the stone near the top and he leaped into the air, the cords that bound him to the kunai quickly shortening until he was braced against the stone, one hand against it to keep his balance as he looked down on the rooftop of the cathedral. From here, he was woefully exposed, but he also had a better vantage point. He closed his eyes, clinging tightly to the spire and hoping he wouldn't be noticed in the dark and the rain as he searched for his target.

He and Ayame had come here in pursuit of the Bellringer, a madman on Shinigami's List who apparently also had some strange obsession with the cathedral bells. The information they had gathered earlier in the day said that he would be here tonight, but so far, Rei wasn't seeing anything. There were no lights, no bright presences in his clairvoyance that told him that any living souls were nearby, just the darkness and the rooftop and the rain.

" _See anything?"_ Ayame asked.

He shook his head, opening his eyes. "Nothing alive," he said. "But there's…something in the southern bell tower."

Ayame frowned, her expression growing grave. _"A body?"_ she asked.

"Maybe."

There was only one way to find out. Rei leaped from the spire, the cords lengthening accordingly and slowing his fall as he landed on the rooftop. The kunai disengaged themselves without him having to do anything, folding back into the cloak as he ran over to the bell tower.

He pressed his back tightly against the wall near the window, peering down into the gloom. It was dark inside, but his Soul Perception showed him the outline of the cathedral's largest bell, Emmanuel, a smaller figure sprawled out in the shadow of the bell's massive silhouette. It was vaguely human shaped, and not moving. He couldn't see the light of its soul, which meant Ayame was right. He was looking at a corpse.

Something cold sank into Rei's stomach, but he dropped down from the window into the bell tower anyway, droplets of water falling around him as he landed on the ground. He walked over to the body, as silent as a shadow, and crouched down behind it, carefully turning the corpse's face towards him.

His eyes widened. Inside her Soul Space, Ayame leaned forward, her own eyes widening as well.

" _That's—_ ," she began.

 _The Bellringer…_ Rei finished for her, but he couldn't bring himself to say it out loud. His skin started to crawl. He stood and realized he had been standing in a pool of blood, spreading from the Bellringer's corpse. A chill crept down his spine, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. He looked around, but his Soul Perception showed him nothing but an empty room, the Bellringer's killer nowhere to be found.

And yet, the body was fresh. The Bellringer had been dead less than an hour.

Which meant he wasn't alone.

His eyes widened as his clairvoyance alerted him of something, a small object flying towards him at high speed. Rei leaped out of the way, brushing his hand against the Cloak and making the signal for Kusarigama Mode. Ayame transformed in a flash of light, his hands closing around the scythes before he could even land on the ground, the chain settling around him.

His eyes flicked towards the object that had been thrown at him, now embedded in the opposite wall. It was a card, similar to the tarot card that Richard had taken from Grayson, except the image on its front was different, the Sun instead of the Fool.

He turned his eyes towards the figure that had only just made its way into his Soul Perception, the soul inside of him flaring brightly as he stepped into view. A man, in his early twenties, with messy black hair and red eyes just a shade brighter than Rei's own. He wore an intricate red and black outfit that made him look one part rogue, one part wizard. He held another card between two of his fingers, the face turned away from Rei so that he couldn't see what card it was.

And he was dangerous. Rei could tell that much from the strength of his Soul Response, from the power and malice he felt from the man and from the blood on the man's boots, blood that, in this room, could only have come from one source.

"I wondered when the DWMA would send one of their brats after the Bellringer," the man said, smirking at Rei. "You're a little late, boy."

"Who are you?" Rei asked, tightening his grip on Ayame's scythes. In her soul space, Ayame tensed, her eyes narrowed as she curled her fingers slowly into fists.

"Who I am hardly matters," said the man. "You won't live long enough to remember me."

Rei tensed, bending his knees and getting ready to strike. The man barely seemed to notice, continuing to speak as if Rei's movements did not concern him at all. Rei's mind raced, already planning his angle of attack. He would run forward, forcing the man to defend himself from the front, then change direction at the last movement, using the close quarters here to leap off the walls and attack the man from the side. One scythe around his waist, another hooked around his neck. Quick and clean.

"You should know that this isn't personal," the man said. "A message needs to be sent to the DWMA. You simply chose the wrong mission."

Rei's foot slid forward, his weight shifting towards it as he prepared to execute his plan.

Before he could, the man flicked his fingers and the card in the wall exploded, his world dissolving in a blaze of light and heat.

* * *

**Omake**

Maka walked the faculty office after the last of her students had chosen a mission, smiling slightly as she walked over to her desk. Most of the second-years had been happy to put off the start of classes for a few more days, and it gave her some time to get organized and make sure that everything was going well with the new first-years. She waved at Marie, who was working on what looked like a lesson plan, and sat at her desk, pulling out her gradebook.

Sid came in the room a few moments later, holding the envelope that listed the new first-years and their partnerships. Maka watched him with mild interest out of the corner of her eye, then looked up in surprise when he walked past Marie entirely, setting the envelope down on one of the empty desks.

"You're not teaching Class Full Moon?" Maka asked, surprised.

Marie looked up from her work, blinking at Maka in confusion before smiling. "No," she asked. "Not this time. The class has a new homeroom teacher this year. You know him."

"Who—," Maka began, but she fell silent as a new presence registered in her Soul Perception. Her eyes widened and she turned towards the door just as it opened. "You!" she said, pointing.

"Me." Ox Ford gave her a smirk, his arms folded and the light reflecting off of his glasses.

"What are you _doing_ here?" Maka asked, surprised.

"Well, I couldn't leave _you_ with the sole responsibility of educating these precious minds…" Ox began, gesturing dramatically.

Maka was not impressed. "Kim dumped you, didn't she?" she asked flatly.

"I will get her back!" Ox declared, collapsing to his knees. He pounded the floor, tears streaming down his face. _"Kiiiiiiimmm…"_

Maka looked across from him at Harvar, who let out a long-suffering sigh, closing the office door.


	16. All in the Cards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So remember how I blended the anime and manga to create a world where Mifune was still alive but everything else proceeded as normal? Well, I did it again, for plot purposes. What I did isn't going to become immediately apparent, but the careful reader might pick up on it in this chapter if they squint. Have fun! (Also it goes without saying, but I am once again playing fast and loose with Arthurian mythology.)

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

**All in the Cards**

* * *

Morgan sat on top of Cassie's open pages, her legs tucked neatly underneath her as they soared over the Atlantic at high speed. The grimoire had grown so that it was more than thrice its original size, allowing Morgan to sit just over the spine, with some room for movement on all sides.

The wind whipped at them, bitterly cold, and Morgan ducked into it, one hand braced on Cassie's pages to keep herself there and her eyes focused on the horizon as they fled away from the sun, twilight turning the sky ahead of them into a patchwork of blues and violets, the first stars already beginning to make their appearance in the dome of the sky.

They were getting close. She could feel it in her blood, could almost imagine Avalon calling her home. But it was only her imagination. She wasn't going there.

She had another destination in mind.

Rei. She didn't know the exact time her vision had specified, only that it had been nighttime and it was raining. For all she knew, it could be hours from now, or she could already be too late.

"We need to hurry," she said, leaning into the wind.

" _I know, Morgan,"_ Cassie said. _"I'm going as fast as I can."_

Morgan looked up and felt the wind across her face, saw the first fringes of land begin to appear over the horizon. She reached down, spreading out so that she was almost lying on her stomach, her fingers tight around the grimoire's pages to keep herself there.

Cassie looked up at her from within her soul space, frowning in confusion. _"Morgan?"_ she asked.

" _Ventus,"_ Morgan intoned. _"Ventus, ventum, venti_."

Words glowed beneath her, the wind picking up around them. Morgan closed her eyes against it and grit her teeth as Cassie let out a small shriek, the wind propelling them forward towards the European coastline.

* * *

Rei's eyes widened as the world exploded, a concussive blast of fire and heat rushing towards him. The world spun as the blast knocked him off his feet, his chain-scythes flying out of his hands as Ayame regained her human form in a flash of light.

Before he was fully aware of what was happening, she had already grabbed him around the shoulder and pushed him to the ground, rolling them both off the platform. Rei's stomach lurched as the floor dropped away suddenly, the two of them tumbling off of the wooden plinth and plunging into the empty space beneath the bell. She hooked one arm under his as they fell, the other transforming into a weighted chain and looping around the bell's clapper. The chain went taut, the bell shuddering with their weight and momentum as they swung, letting out a booming ringing sound that echoed throughout the bell tower.

Rei came to his senses quickly, tapping the pattern for Cloak of Shadows out on Ayame's arm as they swung, a ball of fire snaking down from the top of the bell tower into the shaft they were hanging in. Ayame nodded, her eyes narrowing in concentration as she transformed in a flash of light. There was a brief moment, near the apex of their swing, when Ayame vanished and he was falling through the void again. Then the Cloak wrapped around him, its shadow kunai shooting out in two opposing directions and latching onto the walls, slowing Rei's fall.

He landed crouched on the ground, one hand pressed to the floor to catch himself, and managed to roll out of the way of the fireball as it crashed onto the floor, tumbling through the door that led into the tower and standing up in the church proper.

The inside of the cathedral was magnificent, stone pillars stretching upwards on either sides of the aisle towards vaulted ceilings that seemed impossibly high. It was empty at this time of night, and dark, shadows gathering in the pews and balconies and pooling beneath the fractured city lights that came in through the stained glass windows. But there wasn't any time to admire it.

Rei spun as he heard a thud from behind him, feeling out with his Soul Perception. His attacker had landed on the ground, his own cloak spread around him as he straightened up and extinguished the flames with a hand. Quickly, before the man could see him, Rei threw the Cloak's kunai up towards the pillars that flanked a darkened balcony, the cords that bound the Cloak to the kunai shortening enough for him to leap over the railing. He landed crouched on the ground on the other side, his back pressed against the stone wall behind him as he watched the man step out into the sanctuary, unscathed from both the blast and the fall. He walked down the aisle slowly, moving his head from left to right as if searching for Rei.

" _Rei, what's wrong_?" Ayame asked. _"Why aren't we fighting?"_

Rei shook his head, but didn't trust himself to speak just then. He didn't know how to tell Ayame about what he saw, about the size of the man's soul. Fear crept through him as he crouched there, his heart beating so loudly that he could hear it. It was a sort of fear he hadn't felt in a long time, the fear that came from facing someone much bigger and much stronger than him.

"You're just making things worse for yourself, you know," the man said, from the cathedral down below. "Just come out. I promise it will be quick."

He drew in a slow breath to calm himself, raising his hand slightly so that Ayame could see it and making a pair of quick gestures that together said: _Retreat and report._

Ayame pursed her lips and frowned at him, but she didn't argue, saying nothing as Rei carefully pushed himself to his feet.

He was sure that he hadn't made a sound, but somehow the man's eyes turned towards him anyway. A smirk appeared on his face, his red eyes flashing. "Found you." he said, flicking his hand towards Rei.

A card flew through the air, embedding itself in the wall behind Rei. Shadows coalesced around it, settling into a form that vaguely looked like the emaciated figure of a man, hanging upside down by his feet. He reached out for Rei with long fingers and Rei quickly jumped back, landing precariously on the balcony railing. His eyes widened as he nearly lost his footing and tumbled backwards, but he quickly regained it, making the hand gesture for Katana Mode.

Ayame transformed in a flash and he gripped the sword with both hands, launching himself forward at the twisted creature. Rei ducked as the creature reached out for him, slipping just beneath its clawed hands.

He brought his sword up in a rising cut, shadows parting as he sliced right through it, Ayame's blade cutting through the card at the creature's heart. It fell to the ground in two parts as shadows dissipated—the Hanged Man. He barely spared it a glance as he launched himself through the window, gesturing for the Cloak of Shadows again.

Glass shattered around him as he crashed into it, his arms thrown up in front of his face to protect himself. The rain hammered into him immediately, shards of glass falling to the ground below as he turned and launched the Cloak's kunai back onto the rooftop.

He landed on the roof tiles again, breathing hard, water mixing with blood and gathering in rivulets around him. He glanced down at himself, heart pounding. A few cuts from leaping through a glass window, including one on his forehead that bled alarmingly, but nothing too serious. Yet.

Lightning crashed, and he spun as his Soul Perception made him aware of a figure standing on the roof with him, the rain crashing down around them both. The man was there, another card already in his hand. He looked at Rei dispassionately, not regretfully, not even with glee. Just indifferently, as though what he was doing here meant nothing to him at all.

"Who are you?" Rei asked, stalling for time as he tried to look for a way out. He could leap over the side of the building, try to lose the man in the streets, but that would only bring innocent people into this, and he wasn't sure it would work. If he could manage to make it to the DWMA's European branch, he would be fine, but he'd have to distract the man first, give himself enough time to get away. "Why are you doing this?"

The man's only response was to squint at Rei, frowning at him as if he were truly seeing him for the first time. "I…recognize you," he said, after a moment. "You're Maka-sensei's son…"

Rei's eyes widened. The words ' _How do you know my mother?'_ were on the tip of his tongue, but the answer came to him before he could ask them. "You went to the DWMA!"

The man almost didn't seem to hear him. He studied Rei, frowning deeply as if he were considering something. "Yes, that would do nicely. A perfect message…"

"Message for _what_?!" Rei asked. "Answer me!"

The man's only response was to flick his hand, the card in it floating into the air in front of his face. It spun rapidly in the air, revealing its face for a few moments—the Justice card—before it began to glow, the light taking the form of the sword that had been in the picture, a straight, double-edged blade with a golden hilt. The man caught the sword by the hilt, swiping it through the air in two experimental flourishes before raising it and pointing the tip at Rei.

He charged forward, sword flashing.

Rei took a step back, momentarily surprised by the speed with which the man had moved forward, and gestured quickly with one hand. Ayame transformed instantly, the hilts of her kusarigama form settling into his hands again. He sliced downward with one scythe, attempting to knock the man's blade out of the way as he thrust the point of the other scythe at his opponent's neck.

He felt his scythe connect with the man's sword, metal clashing against metal as Rei pushed down on it, then suddenly nothing as the man withdrew his sword. Rei stumbled forward from the loss of support at the same moment as the man spun, rain pouring down around them as the man's cloak flared out around him. There was an instant where his opponent had turned his back towards him, where Rei could have struck if he could catch his balance, and then the man turned farther and steel filled up his vision, the sword's edge pointed straight at his neck.

Rei's eyes widened, and he managed to bring his second kusarigama up in time to protect his neck, forcing his weight back and stumbling away from the blade. The sword struck his scythe for the briefest instant and then skittered against it as his opponent changed his direction, the sword sweeping diagonally down across Rei's chest. Rei jumped back to avoid the blow and thought he had succeeded.

That was until he saw the blood.

The sword had cut a thin line across his chest. Rei pressed his hand to it as he backed up quickly, his eyes widening. The cut was shallow enough to not be life-threatening, but just deep enough to be concerning. It was only now starting to sting. The sword had been so sharp that he hadn't even felt it.

The man advanced, his sword flashing as he aimed it at Rei's head.

"Ayame!" Rei said.

There wasn't time to think. There was barely enough time to get away. Ayame transformed in a flash of light, becoming the Cloak of Shadows again, and the kunai shot outward from it, embedding themselves into the two bell towers that faced the street. The cords shortened, yanking him out of the way of the man's thrust and into the air, suspended between the towers and facing the man. He frowned up at Rei, the sword in one hand as he reached into his cloak with the other, drawing out another card.

The Devil.

He raised the card into the air, preparing to throw it down onto the ground. Rei tensed, getting ready to move as shadow swirled around the card.

" _Soul Resonance!"_ cried a voice from the air.

His eyes widened and he looked up just in time to see Morgan descending from the clouds, the wind howling around her from where she sat on top of Cassie's grimoire form. The book beneath her began to glow, the words shimmering in bright gold as light surrounded her.

Morgan's soul expanded, swelling to fill the space around her. From within the grimoire, the space around Cassie expanded as well, a circle of bright white surrounding her and pushing back the pale pink void of her soul space. Cassie stood in the center of that circle, her eyes closed as power thrummed around her. Her hands stretched out to either side of her, moving through the air as though she was manipulating unseen controls, the outlines of words flickering into existence at her touch and then fading out again.

" _Synchronizing indices…synchronization complete. Reality values calibrated…aligned. Stability acceptable. Initiating resonance."_

Her eyes snapped open, flaring a bright blue in the white light that surrounded her, and then she reached for her ears, cupping her hands around them. Headphones crystallized out of the light surrounding her, a steady beat coursing through them and causing the space around Cassie to pulse, lines of light appearing around her in time to the music. As Rei watched, those same lines began to streak across the surface of Morgan's soul, her soul pulsing with the beat of whatever Cassie was listening to.

" _Morgan!"_ she said. _"Your wavelength is coming in loud and clear!"_

From where she was seated on top of the glowing grimoire, Morgan spread her hands wide, the words beneath her coming straight _off_ the page. They floated in the air in front of her, words glowing gold in a script that Rei couldn't read, and began to form concentric circles, extending forward towards the man on the ground and narrowing in scope so that it was like Morgan was looking down a funnel. The circles began to spin in opposite directions, picking up speed until individual words were no longer visible.

" _Sagitta Solis!"_ she shouted.

Flames burst into existence from the circle closest to Morgan, shooting through the funnel of spinning circles in front of her. As they passed through the center of each circle, the flames moved faster, pressing closer and closer together until they became an arrow that seemed as bright as the sun. The man's eyes widened as the arrow shot towards him and he jumped back, moving out of the way just in time to allow the arrow to strike the rooftop, slamming into the tiles with an explosion of white-hot heat and fury. Rei squeezed his eyes shut, turning his head away from the glare as it passed over him.

When he opened his eyes, there were black spots on his vision, a scorch mark on the tiles where Morgan's arrow had struck. Steam rose up from the rain that had fallen in the blast radius, blanketing the area. The rain continued to fall, sizzling against the scorched tiles.

Morgan landed crouched on the ground, the light around her fading. She stretched out her hand, Cassie's grimoire shrinking back to its normal form as she caught it.

Rei looked away from her, towards the other side of the rooftop, and saw the man crouching there, his eyes wide from where he took cover behind a golden shield. The shield dissipated, steam rising from its surface, and a card floated to the ground at his feet: The Hierophant.

He looked from Morgan to Cassie in stunned disbelief, his sword still in his hand. "The Reality Grimoire?" he asked, seeming to speak to no one at all. "No…it can't be, unless…of course! The wife! Arachne, you goddamned genius!" He laughed suddenly, as if Morgan's arrival had been the funniest thing. Rei took the opportunity to swing forward from where he hung, landing on the ground beside Morgan, the Cloak's tassels snapping back into the mass of shadows that it was formed out of.

" _What's with him?"_ Cassie asked, frowning. Her headphones hung around her neck now; they hadn't disappeared in the aftermath of that attack. _"He's creepy."_

"Don't let your guard down," Rei said, crouching down into a stance. "He's strong."

Morgan nodded. "I'll cover you," she said, opening the book.

The man turned towards them, finally seeming to get his laughter under control. His shoulders shook from the effort and he grinned, turning his head towards them. The effect was so at odds with the cool and composed attacker that Rei had fought earlier that he felt a trickle of fear in spite of himself, resisting the urge to take a step back.

"Oh, this is rich," the man said, his hands spread to either side of him. "The Reality Grimoire, Maka-sensei's son, the Nakatsukasa scion and, unless I'm very much mistaken, _you_." His eyes landed on Morgan and his grin widened, a flash of teeth. Out of the corner of his eye, Rei could have sworn he saw Morgan flinch. "This is fantastic. This is _better_ than my message. I'll leave you to pass that on for me, Evans-kun. I suddenly find myself with bigger fish to fry."

"What?" Rei asked, taken aback. Within her soul space, Ayame's eyes narrowed.

" _Hey, if you think we're just gonna let you walk away, you've got another thing coming!"_ she said.

The man they were facing seemed not to hear her. He turned around, still smiling, and dug another card from his cloak, throwing it to the ground. Light flared up, forming a chariot, and he stepped on it.

"Tell Maka-sensei I said 'hello'," he said. "And tell the DWMA I said 'be ready'."

Rei and Morgan moved forward to stop him, eyes wide. Before they could, he leaped onto the chariot. There was a flash of bright light, and then when it faded, the chariot was gone.

* * *

"What are you doing in France, anyway?" Rei asked Morgan in the aftermath, hissing in pain as Ayame pulled the bandages around him a little too tightly. "Weren't you supposed to be in Morocco?"

"I let Cassie drive," Morgan said, pulling a small, rectangular hand mirror out of her pocket. "Should have known we'd get lost."

"Wait," said Cassie, blinking in confusion and looking around her. "You mean this isn't Morocco?"

"No, Cassie," said Morgan. "It's France."

"Oh…" said Cassie, blinking. " _Oui oui, hon hon, croissant baguette."_

Morgan was not amused.

"At least she's in the right hemisphere," Ayame muttered. "Rei, stop _wiggling_!"

"I'm not wiggling; that just _hurts_!" said Rei.

"Be quiet for a moment," Morgan said, holding up a hand. "I'm about to report in." She fogged up the glass with her breath, tracing out the numbers. 42-42-564. The mirror began to glow, and she watched as the light resolved itself into the shape of Shinigami, seated behind his desk and looking up at them from over the piles of paperwork.

"Morgan," he said, then frowned as he took note of the background behind her. "Aren't you supposed to be in Morocco?"

"We got a little sidetracked," Morgan said, moving the mirror so that the shinigami could see Rei and Ayame from where Rei was seated shirtless on a couch, Ayame winding bandages tightly around his chest. The four of them had taken shelter in one of the safe houses set aside for use by the European branch of the DWMA. Outside, the rain had dwindled down to a drizzle, droplets of water occasionally striking the windows as the wind changed.

Shinigami's eyes narrowed as he saw Rei. "What happened?" he asked.

"Do you want to take this?" Morgan asked, raising her eyebrows at Rei as Ayame stepped away from him.

"Sure," Rei said, his head falling back to rest on the couch's backrest, his eyes focused on the ceiling. "Just give me a minute."

He inhaled deeply, gathering his strength, then pressed one hand against the bandages wrapped around him using the other to rearrange himself so that he was sitting up. Once he was done, he used that hand to motion for the mirror. Morgan handed it over to him, wordlessly arranging herself on a chair just within the mirror's view. She folded her skirt beneath her and sat down, waiting for Rei to start speaking.

"We arrived at Notre Dame as planned, to take on the Bellringer, but we ran into someone who got to him first," he said. "This person had a…very large amount of power. He didn't seem to be using a Demon Weapon, though. He fought with cards."

"Cards?" Shinigami's eyes narrowed dangerously from the other side of the mirror, and he leaned in closer. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure," Rei said. "He knew Mom too, recognized me as her son. He called her Maka-sensei. I think he used to go to the DWMA."

"This man," Shinigami said, frowning at Rei. "Did he have dark hair? Red eyes?"

Rei nodded, and Shinigami muttered something under his breath that none of them could catch. Morgan heard movement from somewhere off-screen, but the mirror had a limited view of the Death Room, and she couldn't see what was going on behind it. As she watched, Shinigami-sama leaned back in his seat, shuffling papers and setting them aside.

"The man you fought was likely named Micah Cole," he said to Rei in explanation. "A DWMA graduate and former three-star meister. He was one of your mother's first students. He went rogue two years ago and murdered his partner. We haven't heard much from him since then, but we've been steadily tracking him down. He seems to be associated with the isolated outbreaks of madness that the European branch has been dealing with."

"He wanted to 'send a message'," Rei said. "That's what he kept talking about before he got distracted and left. At first, he wanted to kill me to do it, but for some reason, he changed his mind. He said the message was that the DWMA should 'be ready'."

Shinigami's frown deepened. From this remove, Morgan couldn't tell what was going on around him, but it seemed serious enough. She exchanged a glance with Ayame, who was seated on the couch beside Rei, watching the screen with some concern.

"Be ready," Shinigami repeated. "Are you sure that's what he said?"

"I'm sure," said Rei. He hesitated, glancing away from the mirror. Morgan marked it, frowning at him. "There's…something else. I think he was in contact with Grayson, from before you expelled him."

Silence on the other end of the line. When Shinigami spoke, his tone was deathly serious. "Are you sure of that?" he asked.

"You can ask Richard, but I'm just passing on what he told me," Rei said. "Grayson got a card from someone he called the Thief. It was in the same style as the cards this man— _Micah_ used to fight."

"Do you still have the card now?"

"It's in my apartment," Rei said, and Morgan caught the shiver that ran through him as he realized what that could mean. "In my room, in the top desk drawer."

"Permission to enter your apartment and retrieve it?"

"Yeah, sure, take whatever you need," said Rei. Shinigami made another gesture to someone off-screen, and Morgan heard the faint sound of footsteps before he turned back towards Rei. His expression softened somewhat, growing concerned. "Are you injured?"

"Not…not seriously," Rei said. "We'll head back to Death City as soon as we can."

"Get some rest," Shinigami said. "And then give me a full report when you're rested."

"Will do," Rei said.

The connection broke, the mirror becoming purely reflective again. Rei stared down at it for a moment, considering, then wordlessly handed it back to Morgan. She slipped it into her pocket, her mind still puzzling through Micah's last words as Rei stood up to go get some sleep.

* * *

Kid looked up as the connection faded, surveying the people that were still standing in the Death Room. Soul, who had left the Death Room to get Maka as soon as it became clear that something had happened to Rei, Maka herself, standing beside him and grim-faced, and Patty. Liz had just left with the master key to the students' apartments, to get the card that Rei had mentioned. He met all of their eyes in turn, taking a slow breath as he considered what to do.

"Well, I think it's clear we have a situation," he said. "I'd like to ask everyone who can to stay behind for a staff meeting."

Maka and Soul exchanged glances with each other, a wordless argument that Kid had witnessed many times since Rei was born, the question of who would stay and who would head home. This time, Soul relented, a scowl on his face as Maka shot him a glare that made him turn around and leave the room. It was Maka herself that broke the silence that followed.

"We'll need Sid, and Professor Stein, and Marie," she said. "Probably Ox and Naigus too. And…my dad, I guess. He's still in the building."

Kid nodded. "I'm already contacting them," he said, tapping out a pattern onto the surface of his mirror. A thought occurred to him and he frowned, looking over at Maka. "Where is Angela now?"

She closed her eyes for a moment, and Kid felt the wave of her Soul Perception pass over him as she searched the city. "Still here," she said when she opened her eyes. "She's in her apartment."

"Call her," Kid said. "She'll want to hear this."

"And Shelley?" Maka asked.

Kid frowned as he considered the question of Shelley Stein, considered how she would react to this news, and what she might be prompted to do. "Not…yet," he said. "Not until we know more."

Maka nodded, turning away. She fished her phone out of her pocket, moving to call Angela. Kid turned away from her as the first few members of DWMA's staff began to trickle in, losing himself in his own thoughts.

* * *

Maka came home to find the living room dark, Soul seated on the couch with one of the twins on either side as they watched something on the TV. Cori sat on his left side, leaning against his arm and watching the screen intently while Annie sat on his right, half-turned away from the screen as she wedged herself in between him and the arm rest. Soul had his arm draped over her almost absently, the arm tightening around her when she turned away and shivered as he kept his eyes on the screen.

She stopped at the foot of the stairs, the sight shaking her out of her thoughts long enough to turn towards them.

"What are you guys watching?" she asked.

Cori perked up from where she was sitting, turning her head and looking at Maka over the back of the couch. "Ghost story!"

" _Soul…"_ said Maka, her eyes narrowing.

"What?" asked Soul, looking over at her. "The girls are okay with it, aren't you, Cori?" He nudged her with his arm, prompting a response.

"Yep!" said Cori cheerfully, swinging back around to face the screen. "It's not real anyways."

"Anima, sweetie, are you okay with this?" asked Maka, frowning in concern as Annie let out a little whimper, snuggling closer to Soul. She shot Soul a preemptive glare, turning back towards the little girl.

"I'm—I'm okay," said Annie, peeling herself away from Soul to look back at Maka. She squeaked as something scary happened on screen, turning back towards Soul. "It—It's not real. Papa will keep the monsters away anyway."

Maka smiled. And then the meeting came back to her and her face fell. Soul frowned at her, catching that, but she was already turning away, heading up the stairs.

She stepped into their room, taking a seat at the small round table that had been placed by the room's large window. She tried to read to distract herself, but as always when she was thinking thoughts like this, her eyes started drifting towards the moon. It hung over Death City as it always had, giving no sign at all as to what it contained, as to the battle that had been fought there over two decades ago.

She thought of Micah, not as the man that Rei had fought, but as the boy she had known once, the shy, bookish dark-haired boy who had been a member of the very first homeroom class she had ever taught at the DWMA, the one who had often followed her home to talk about Soul Perception, or resonance, or whatever topic was currently of interest to him at the moment. She thought about that and often wondered, as she had in the past two years since the incident, when it had gone wrong, if there was any way that she could have seen the darkness in him, any way that she could have prevented it.

She was supposed to be one of the best at Soul Perception. What good was that ability if she couldn't even stop one of her best students from falling into darkness?

And she thought of what Annie had said, about how they would protect them from the monsters. It was one thing to face monsters—she and Soul did that every day. But it was one thing to face monsters that they could see, monsters that they could fight, and another thing entirely to not know where the monsters were.

It was one thing to go out and fight monsters. It was another thing entirely to have the monsters come to them. She'd fight tooth and nail to protect her children from those monsters. That wasn't even a question. She'd fight until she died—she had never been afraid of that. But it wasn't that simple anymore. It wasn't just a matter of 'it doesn't matter what comes; we'll fight it even if it kills us'. Because there were other things to worry about now.

It hadn't been that simple in a while. Hadn't been that simple since the day, fourteen years ago, when Rei had been born. She couldn't believe it had taken her this long to realize it.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she almost didn't notice Soul come in, didn't look up to face him until he was right in front of her, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Finished with the movie?" she asked.

"Kids are in bed," Soul said with a nod.

"If Annie gets nightmares, you're dealing with it." She sniped at him, but her heart wasn't in it, her eyes drifting back to the moon.

"Bad meeting?" Soul guessed.

She inhaled, exhaled, tried to find a way to put the weight in her heart into words, the weight she knew Soul had sensed in her the moment she stepped through the door. "Long…meeting," she finally said. "We, um, discussed contingencies. What it means that Micah wanted to 'send a message'. I…um…"

"Yeah?" Soul prompted.

"This could get big, Soul," Maka said, all in one breath. "Really big. And it's…not like we haven't handled anything like that before, but it's not just the two of us anymore, you know. Rei could have died—."

"But he didn't," Soul said.

"But he _could have_ ," said Maka.

"But he didn't. Worrying about what _could have_ happened is more than pointless. Think of all the times we 'could have' died, when we were that age."

"That's exactly the point, Soul," said Maka, glancing at the moon. "What did we fight for up there, if our kids were just going to end up doing the exact same thing?"

"I think you're over-romanticizing what we did up there," said Soul, frowning at her. "We weren't fighting for 'the next generation' or anything like that. We _were_ kids then. None of us were actually thinking of _having_ kids. The only people involved in all that who were thinking of 'saving the next generation' or whatever were Mifune and _probably_ Stein and Marie. And it's not like we got rid of all the danger in the world when we were up there. There will _always_ be something dangerous—there were dangerous things before the Kishin and there sure as heck are going to be a lot of them after. We'll do what we always do. We'll fight it, and if Rei wants to join in, well that's _his_ choice _._ "

"But what if we _lose_?" Maka asked. "What happens to us? What happens to the kids?" She inclined her head in the direction of the twins' room. Soul's frown deepened.

"It's getting that bad?" he asked.

Maka drew in a deep breath, thinking back to the meeting. Thinking, not just about what had been said, but the _implications_ of those words. To what her dad had told her on the way out of the Death Room, when he had pulled her aside in a rare moment of seriousness to tell her something that would have been cryptic, had she not been who she was, had she not spent entirely too much time reading the books she had read.

" _There's something you should know…a little tip Mifune passed on. It hasn't reached Shinigami-sama, for obvious reasons, and we can't really discuss it, but it has something to do with the Morrigan."_

She thought she understood what that had been all about. But if her dad was right, then she couldn't discuss it. Not really. So instead she exhaled slowly, her hands tightening into fists on top of the table as she worked through what she _could_ say. "You remember what Rei said, about Micah trying to recruit Grayson."

"I remember," Soul said, nodding.

"We…discussed the possibility that there might be more plants in the DWMA. Possibly among the students. That…whoever Micah's involved with might be getting ready to make a move…"

Soul filled in the gaps almost instantly. She was glad of that, that after being partners for so long, he could hear what she _didn't_ say almost as well as he could hear what she _did._ "So we have an enemy," he said. "So what? It's not like we haven't been in this situation before." He glanced meaningfully at the moon. "We're a lot stronger than we were then."

"I know," Maka said. "But we were also very, very lucky. If it wasn't for Crona and the Brew…" She trailed off. She didn't want to start talking about her own secret fear now, the fear that had been in the back of her mind ever since Micah had betrayed them, ever since outbreaks of madness started cropping up in places he had touched. It was an irrational fear, and she knew it, but things were looking very similar now to the way they had looked back _then._

Asura wasn't dead. It was something that she still thought of sometimes, in the night when she couldn't sleep.

As long as something was _alive,_ there was always, _always_ the possibility that it could come back. It was a baseless fear, which was why she had never mentioned it to Soul. But she got the feeling that he knew.

"I'm just worried," she said, drawing in a breath and trying to pass it off as nothing. "It's probably nothing. What Annie said though…about us keeping the monsters away? I guess, it just got me thinking…what if we can't?"

"You mean what if we die," Soul said flatly, still watching her.

"Don't tell me you've never considered the possibility," said Maka, looking up at him.

"I have, but…you wanna have this conversation _now_?" Soul asked, frowning at her.

"Humor me," she said. "I'm just a little…scared. I'm not—I'm not scared for _us_ , but when I think about Rei, and Annie and Cori…" She trailed off. She didn't know how to say it, that as horrible as it was, it would make her feel better, that she would gladly repeat the whole awful confrontation with Asura if she could be assured that the three of them would be okay.

Soul let out an impatient sigh, running a hand through his hair. "Well, your dad's not awful," he said. "At least not with the kids. He's nuts about the girls. He'd take them in."

In spite of herself, Maka couldn't help the small, grim smile that came to her face at the mental image. "And have Cori chew him out about his irresponsible life?"

"Exactly. It'll be just like having you again," said Soul. "And there's always Shibuko, I guess."

Maka shook her head. "No. Kid means well, but no. Not an orphanage. Not while they still have family in town. And before you say it, I know Rei _would_ take them in, but he shouldn't have to. He's still a kid himself; he should—he should keep that, for as long as he can."

Soul scratched the back of his head, and Maka could tell that he wasn't liking having this conversation, but he was doing it for her anyway. She found herself immensely grateful for him, for him just _being there_. It didn't ease the ache in her heart. If anything, it just made it grow, but it was almost a good ache now.

"Well if your dad flakes for some reason, there's always Wes," Soul said. "I mean, he wouldn't know what to do with a couple of weapon brats and my parents would freak, but he'd take them. And after him, there's Tsubaki. Stein and Marie. Anyone at the DWMA." He looked up at her. "Someone would step in. You know that. It's not like they'd ever be _alone_."

Maka exhaled heavily, staring down at the table. "I know," she said, trying her hardest to make herself believe that. She hugged herself tightly as Soul stood up, walking over to her without a word.

When his arms wrapped around her, she sagged into his chest, her grip on herself relaxing just slightly. She turned her face towards him, breathing deep.

"I know," she repeated.

Soul held her tighter, and that time, she believed it.

* * *

The chariot materialized on the inside of a great library, and Micah jumped down from it eagerly, letting the chariot retreat back into the card and tucking the card back into its slot on the inside of his cloak. He landed on the tiles, scanning the cavernous room, until his eyes landed on the one person who was actually in the room with him.

"Mordred!" he said excitedly, running over to the man. "You'll never guess what I found!"

"You completed the mission satisfactorily?" Mordred asked, frowning at Micah from where he was seated at a table, reading a book. He was a tall, imposing man, dark-haired and dark-eyed, dressed in a somber looking suit.

"Better!" said Micah, causing Mordred's eyes to narrow.

"You _didn't_ complete the mission," Mordred said.

"Oh, I passed on that message well enough," said Micah, waving his hand dismissively. "But back to what I've found—."

Mordred exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation and closing his eyes. " _Micah_ ," he said, speaking very slowly, as if he were speaking to a child. "The task my mother assigned to you was _simple_. Kill an agent of the DWMA to establish us as a threat and cause their hierarchy to destabilize as suspicion spreads."

"And I _did_ establish us as a threat," said Micah. "I got the Bellringer's soul too. But you're not listening to—."

"I don't understand how someone as purportedly _intelligent_ as yourself can fail to understand such simple instruct—."

" _Mordred_!" Micah said sharply, interrupting him. "I'm trying to tell you—."

"Be _silent_ ," said Mordred, his eyes narrowing as he turned towards Micah. His hand shot forward, grabbing Micah by the clasp of his cloak. "I am currently evaluating your usefulness to this operation. If you value your life at all, you will not make it worse for yourself. Am I clear?"

"Oh, crystal," said Micah. "But…" He looked down at Mordred, the corner of his lip quirking up in a smirk. "…if you kill me, I'm afraid you won't hear what I have to say about your niece."

* * *

Sometimes, Shelley still found herself staring at the mourning ribbon.

It had been a while since she'd picked it up, been a while since she'd remembered that it was sitting there, neatly folded up in the back of her bedside drawer. It had been almost four months since she had taken it out and stared at it, holding it in her hands while she tried to figure out where it had all gone wrong. She wasn't sure what had made her pull it out now and stare at it, running the length of black silk through her fingers as she sat at the edge of her bed.

Something in the air, perhaps.

A storm approaching.

She turned it over, studying the name that had been carefully inscribed on the inside of the ribbon: _Luna._

An image came to mind. A smallish girl, childlike even into her twenties, long, long red hair and big gray eyes that, every time Shelley had seen them, had always been full of light. Curiosity. Wonder. She'd been radiant. Even her weapon form had been radiant—a sword, a slender rapier with a handguard that looked like strands of flowing silver, woven into intricate filigree patterns and inlaid with stars. No one had ever been scared of Luna's weapon form. No one had ever whispered about madness behind her back. Even Luna's sword form was like her, like something that had walked right out of a fairy tale.

She wondered, as she always found herself doing one way or another, if _he_ had seen that. If he had recognized that about her. And if so, how could he have done it? How could he have looked into her eyes, seen her _soul,_ and done that to her?

How could he have watched that light fade, and how could Shelley not have seen that darkness in him in the first place?

Her fingers tightened against the ribbon and she sucked in a breath. Old memories. Old pain.

The door opened downstairs, signaling her partner's arrival, and she fought back the urge to put the ribbon away, to lock it up as if she were guilty of something. She sat still as she heard Angela make her way into the house, the ribbon in her hands as she felt her partner's soul move cautiously up the stairs, heading for her room.

"Shell?" Angela asked, pausing in the doorway.

Her voice was soft. She looked worried. Concerned for her. That, Shelley decided, was a bad sign, especially considering where she had just come from. It meant only one thing, and Shelley, glancing back at the ribbon in her hand, realized that somehow, she had already known what that would be.

"It's Micah, isn't it?" she asked.

Angela bit her lip, not saying anything. She looked back down at the ground, and Shelley was surprised again at the contrast between them. Angela was, ostensibly, older than her. She seemed younger now, had been seeming younger for a while.

Maybe Shelley was just jaded, she thought, looking away from her partner and back to the ribbon. She'd certainly been a lot less cynical back then.

"Where is he?" she found herself asking.

"They don't know yet," Angela said. "He attacked Rei Evans, took the Bellringer's soul, and left. People are still searching for him."

She nodded, looking back down at the ribbon. Then, with complete and utter calm, she stood up, folding the ribbon back up and setting it in its place in her bedside table. She closed the drawer, nudged the books that had been left on top of the table back into order. Picked up her favorite scarf, the knitted one in a patchwork of colors that represented about five different failed scarves her mother had tried to knit for her that her father had sliced up and stitched together into one usable scarf, and slipped it around her neck. Put her glasses back on and combed her hair out with her fingers, smoothing it away from her face.

Perfectly calm, perfectly sane, perfectly boring.

She brushed past Angela, walking down the hallway towards the stairs. Angela blinked at her as she walked past, frowning in concern.

"Shelley?" she asked. "Where are you going?"

"I need a drink," Shelley said, heading for the door.

* * *

**Omake**

Elsewhere in the world, the sun shone through the windows of a tall three-story building, illuminating the dozen or so souls that hovered just a few inches off of the wooden floors. They bobbed back and forth as Clark adjusted his glasses, Vayne's pendulum form propped up on his shoulder with one hand. From within the orange void of his soul space, Vayne frowned pensively, looking out at the room.

" _Do you ever get the feeling we're being…ignored?"_ Vayne asked. _"Like we're missing out on something?"_

"No," Clark said, frowning at the massive blade. "Why?"

Vayne shrugged. _"Just a feeling_ ," he said. _"Anyway, what's the count now?"_

"Well, there's at least eighteen souls here," said Clark, glancing around the room and mouthing the numbers to himself as he counted again. "I think we just beat Ayame!"

" _Oh, no way,"_ said Vayne. _"Really?"_

"Yep," said Clark, grinning. "Assuming she and Rei didn't just take down a whole gang."

" _Score!"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song that Cassie listens to when resonating with Morgan doesn't technically exist, since it's whatever Morgan's wavelength sounds like, but what I used to write this chapter was DJ Sona Concussive from League of Legends, so you can listen to that if you want an idea for what I'd imagine it to sound like. That, or something very much like it. DJ Cassie is in the house~
> 
> As you might have gathered from this chapter, Annie is short for Anima, which is Latin for soul. Cori is short for Corpore, body. Together, the two of them form the Latin phrase 'anima sana in corpore sano' which, despite being the motto for the shoe company Asics, also translates to 'a sound soul in a sound body'.


	17. Love Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've noticed my chapter titles getting shorter as the chapters get more serious, but this is probably one of the shortest ones yet. I'll try and top it with a one-word title sometime in the future if I can, lol. Enjoy the chapter!

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

**Love Lost**

* * *

_The sound of a murmuring voice drew her out of sleep slowly, and she drew closer to the source of that warmth, still not wanting to open her eyes. Sunlight danced across the outside of her eyelids as she lay there, listening to the murmur, feeling an arm slip around her and pull her close._

_A smile came to her lips and she opened her eyes, looking up sleepily. "3x^_ _2_ _\+ 15/43 y," she said._

" _Hmm?" Micah asked, smiling down at her warmly._

" _The answer to your problem," Shelley said, "I could hear you muttering to yourself in my sleep."_

_She pushed herself up so that she was sitting next to him. He smiled at her, shifting his position to accommodate her, but also turned the book he was writing in away. From this angle, she caught a glimpse of calculations and what might have been magical symbols, but nothing more._

" _Ah, that was just me trying to see how many times I could fail at multi-variate calculus before it inevitably summoned you, dear."_

" _Don't call me 'dear'," said Shelley, poking him in the ribs with a finger with an exaggerated frown. She drew closer to him, trying to sit up at an angle where she could see inside the notebook. "What are you working on this early in the morning, anyway?" she asked._

" _It's a surprise," Micah said, smiling at her. "My greatest project yet. But don't worry, you'll love it."_

" _Will I?" Shelley asked._

" _Yes," he said, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You will. I promise…"_

The dream faded away, the light and warmth going with it and leaving Shelley Marie Stein with a more pressing problem, the fact that her brain seemed to be doing its level best to escape through her ears. She opened her eyes, even though every instinct she possessed was screaming against it, and instantly regretted it, closing her eyes again with a low groan.

"Ah, there she is," said a voice that was suddenly, achingly familiar. She felt a pair of warm hands enclose one of hers. "How are you feeling, Shelley dear?"

"Like I want to die…" she groaned, but she cracked open an eye anyway, slowly this time.

"That's the spirit," said Marie, gently smoothing her hair away from her face.

She was lying on a familiar pink couch, with a familiar ceiling above her. Her parents' house.

Fantastic.

She closed her eyes, but the events of last night stubbornly escaped her. She didn't remember much more than showing up at the bar and asking for a drink. No, wait, that wasn't entirely correct. She _did_ remember some things, but if her memories were accurate, she'd almost rather go back to sleep. She cracked open her eyes again at the sound of footsteps and managed, just barely, to turn her head enough to see her father walking past the couch, a clipboard in hand.

"Take two aspirin," he said, his voice flat, "and if you find yourself in a life-threatening emergency, I'm available at lunch."

"Your paternal warmth and devotion knows no bounds," Shelley managed to quip, looking over at him.

"Sorry," said Stein, glancing down at her. "They're a little exhausted from staying up half the night to make sure my progeny didn't choke to death on her own vomit."

She winced. The movement was enough to make another lance of pain stab through her head, which made her wince more. When she opened her eyes again, Stein was sitting on the coffee table, frowning at her. He had, at least, lowered the clipboard. Marie sat on a stool next to the couch, watching the two of them with some concern.

"You look like you're about to say something…" Shelley said.

Stein's response was to reach up to the side of his head and turn the bolt. "How much did you drink last night?" he asked.

She closed her eyes against a sudden bout of nausea, taking in a slow breath. "That really isn't any of your concern," she said. Which was her way of saying that she honestly didn't remember.

"I'm a doctor. When your blood alcohol level ceases to be a decimal, it becomes my concern."

"Touché," she said, lying back again and closing her eyes.

"I'm normally a fan of experimentation," Stein said. "But promise me that the next time you attempt to flush your entire circulatory system with ethanol, you do it at a medical facility."

"Noted," Shelley groaned. "Just please tell me I dreamed the part where I started crying about my love life on Spirit Albarn's shoulder."

"Senpai was rather happy to inform me that that wasn't a dream. When he brought you here last night. After you blacked out."

Shelley groaned, turning away. "Just kill me," she said, throwing an arm over her eyes. "You can start over. Grow the next one in a vat."

"Hm. I do have some notes prepared for Shelley 2.0."

She said nothing in response to that, her head still spinning. After a few moments, she heard her father stand up, and felt a surprisingly warm hand land on her shoulder, squeezing it for a few moments before he turned and walked away. She exhaled, and then felt her gorge rise alarmingly.

"I think I'm going to be sick…" she groaned.

Stein wordlessly kicked a bucket over to her on his way to the door. She rolled over and turned her head towards it gratefully. When she was finished, she lay back again. Marie combed her hair out of her face and handed her a towel, giving her a worried smile.

"Can I get you anything?" Marie asked, after helping her through a few sips of water. "Breakfast?"

"Oh God, no…" said Shelley, the very thought sending her stomach roiling again. She lay back, staring up at the ceiling. "Just let me die in peace…"

It was quiet in the lab, the only sound the whirring of whatever instrument Stein had left working before he headed off to the DWMA. Shelley lay there for a few moments, considering the sad state of her life, before she couldn't help it. She started laughing. Her mother seemed completely unfazed by this, as if hysterical laughter in the face of astounding emotional and physical pain was simply a fact of life. Which, given this family, it probably was.

"All better?" Marie asked, when she calmed down. She was still holding her hand.

"No…" Shelley said, blinking tears out of her eyes. "I've officially become one of those crazy ladies that hang out at the bar to whine about their exes. Oh God…I peaked at fourteen."

"You did _not_ peak at fourteen," said Marie firmly, squeezing her hand. She squeezed it hard enough to hurt, which, honestly, was just par for the course with Marie. "Trust me. It will be okay."

"Easy for you to say," Shelley said, cracking an eye open. "Getting back together with your ex _was_ a possibility for you. Because you know, he didn't _murder one of your best friends_. I might as well just get a cat…"

"You do not need a cat," said Marie. "You need sleep, and a shower, and something to eat. And those aspirins your father was talking about. And coffee. In no particular order. And you _need_ to stop thinking about Micah."

"How about we start with sleep and work all the other things out later," said Shelley, leaning back and closing her eyes again. Marie sighed, slowly releasing her hand to pat her on the shoulder.

"I'll be right back with some coffee," she said, and then added. "It _will_ be okay, Shelley. I know that seems hard to believe right now, but it will…"

Shelley didn't answer, feigning sleep. She remained awake, though, listening as Marie started working on getting coffee and breakfast together. She didn't particularly want to sleep.

Not if dreams like that were waiting for her again.

* * *

"Is it just me, or does he look like he hasn't slept?" asked Vayne.

"It's Professor Stein," said Rei. "He _always_ looks like he hasn't slept."

"Yeah, but I mean…worse than usual."

Rei frowned, waving Vayne off and turning around in his seat as Stein faced the room. Studying the professor, he had to admit that Vayne had a point. Stein always looked like he had been a little short on sleep, but today it looked like he was barely holding himself upright. Not the _best_ way to start off his first official class of the new year.

But then again, it wasn't as if Rei was much better off. Jumping from Japan to Nevada to France, getting injured in France and then jumping back to Nevada again had played havoc with his sleep schedule. It was enough to give him some trouble focusing in class and make him a little grumpier today, but it wasn't anything that a cup of coffee couldn't fix.

Then again, Stein was pretty much his grandfather's age. Maybe the professor wasgetting old.

It was a slightly disturbing thought, since by now most of the DWMA's students had just assumed that Stein was immune to normal biological things like aging, so Rei put it out of his mind and turned back towards the professor as Stein turned around and wrote a single word on the board: TEAMS. He underlined it twice, tapping the chalk against the bottom right of the word to get their attention.

"Alright," he said. "You're second years, so it's time to start resonating in groups. Today's assignment: form your teams. Three meisters. Try to pick people you work well with. Everyone understand?"

Silence. Students exchanged glances with each other as Stein watched them from behind his glasses, his eyes fixed firmly on the middle distance. A few of the ones in the front row nodded.

"Good," said Stein, fixing his glasses. "If you need me, I'll be in the faculty lounge doing…work. Dismissed."

He staggered out of the room, dragging his stitched chair behind him. A disbelieving hush fell over the class for a few moments after the door closed, and then murmurs of conversation started picking up around the room.

Rei blinked. "Wait, that's it?" he asked.

Ayame clapped her hands definitively, leaning back in her seat and stretching her arms in the air. "Woot," she said. "Early lunch."

"W-Wait, Ayame," said Clark, turning towards her as she started to stand. "We can't just _leave_. We have to figure out who's on our team."

"Team," Ayame said, pointing at Clark. She moved her hand, pointing at Vayne, Morgan, Cassie, herself, and Rei in turn. "Team, team, team, team, hmm…team. No objections? Okay, we're good." She moved her hands together quickly, as if dusting them off. "Assignment done. Early lunch. Let's get out of here."

Rei didn't have many objections to that. He bent down and picked up his bag, grunting as pain ran through the wound on his chest, and slung it over his shoulder, following his partner out through the rows. A moment later, Morgan shut the book she was reading with a definitive crack, getting up to follow them. Cassie stood up after her, raising her arms over her head and stretching lazily before filing out of the rows. The last to leave were Vayne and Clark, Vayne practically dragging Clark out by the arm.

"But—but, the class—," Clark said. "The social order—."

"Calm down, _iinchou_ ," Vayne said. "They'll figure it out."

"I—okay…" He took a deep breath as they left the room, pushing his glasses up on his face and seeming to compose himself. "Well, since we've officially decided to become a team, and since we apparently have all this time, we should celebrate somehow. We should find somewhere to eat in town."

"Can we get burgers?" Ayame asked, leaning forward eagerly to join the conversation. "Rei and I just got back from, like, the middle-of-nowhere, Japan. I'd kill for a good burger and some fries right now."

"Death Diner it is, then," said Vayne, grinning. He placed a hand on Rei's shoulder, pushing him gently but firmly towards the exit. "Come on. Let's get out of here before someone starts wondering why we're not in class."

"Um…actually…" Cassie stopped walking, glancing at the ground uncertainly. The other five frowned, looking back at her as she put her phone back into her pocket and raised her hands up to her chest, pushing her index fingers together. "I…um…can't go to lunch with you."

"Hmm?" asked Clark, brows raising. "Why's that?"

"Well…you see…the thing is…I, um, already have lunch plans."

"Oh really?" Clark asked. "With whom?"

"Um…well, you know…" said Cassie, gesturing vaguely. "A…friend?"

Rei's eyes widened and he exchanged a glance with Vayne, who was giving Clark an increasingly terrified look from behind his head. He looked back at Ayame, who was watching the scene with some actual concern.

"What I'm trying to say," said Cassie, taking a deep breath and not looking at Clark. "Is that I have a d—I have a duh—a day—a—."

"She has a _date,"_ said Morgan, cutting Cassie off and stepping forward, so that she was almost, but not quite, standing between Cassie and Clark. "So if you could be mature about it, Clark, I'm sure she would really appreciate it."

"Y-Yeah," said Cassie, still not looking at Clark. "What, uh, what she said."

Clark stared at Cassie, open-mouthed. "You have a da— _a date_?!" he repeated, incredulous.

"Yeah," said Cassie, tucking her hair behind her ear self-consciously. "Long story. Um—tell you all about it some other time. Have fun at lunch."

Before Clark could do anything more than gape at her, Cassie waved at them and turned away, walking as quickly down the hallway as she could manage without looking like she was running. Clark stared after her, then looked back at the others.

" _A date?"_ he mouthed.

Rei shrugged, Morgan glared at him warningly, and Ayame gave him a sheepish grin. Vayne sighed, putting his hand on Clark's arm and guiding him away from Cassie towards the exit.

"Come on, lover boy," he said. "Let's get some food."

Clark followed along, still blubbering.

* * *

They didn't go straight to the diner, at Clark's insistence and to everyone else's great impatience. Instead, they looped back around so that Clark could watch from behind a corner as Cassie poked her head into the classroom of Class Crescent Moon, a tall upperclassman coming out to meet her. Rei honestly could not care less about Cassie's love life, but it was important to Clark and he was a lot less whiny when he got his way, so he leaned against the wall and folded his arms impatiently while Clark peered around the corner and seemed to be trying very hard not to cry.

Ayame, normally at least a little involved in the gossip around the school, settled beside Rei with a huff, her hands clasped behind her back. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, noticing the dark circles under her eyes, and remembered that he wasn't the only one feeling the jetlag from the past few days. He raised his brows at her but said nothing, looking back at Cassie's whispered conversation with her new beau.

Ethan, according to Morgan. A third-year. Rei had seen him around school a few times, but hadn't really stopped to talk to him. He was tall, a little over a head taller than Cassie, with reddish-brown hair and green eyes. Apparently, he was a weapon. A decently skilled one too, according to the rumor mill. The rumor mill also said a few other things about him, but considering it was mostly fed by N.O.T. students speculating on the social lives and abilities of their E.A.T. counterparts, Rei had learned to take it with a grain of salt.

They let Clark have a few more moments before Morgan finally stepped forward, impatient, and grabbed hold of his shoulder.

"Food," she said. "Now."

Clark sniffed, but reluctantly pulled away, turning towards her. "Yes, Morgan…"

Rei rolled his eyes, but stood up, the five of them finally leaving the school.

* * *

Maka peered through the gap in the faculty lounge door at Stein, who was lying on the couch, an arm thrown up over his face. The lights were off, curtains drawn over the windows to block out the sun. Someone, probably Stein himself, had taped a crudely-made sign to the outside of the door, one that said: "Do Not Disturb".

She quickly withdrew from the room, pulling the door closed a fraction and turning towards Soul. "The students were right," she said, lowering her voice to a whisper. "I think he's asleep…"

Soul was not impressed. "Tch," he said, "Slacker."

"Soul," she said. "Don't be like that. What if something's wrong? Marie didn't come in today at all, you know. What if she's sick? What if something happened to her? I'm going to go in and ask him." She stepped forward, then hesitated, stepping back. "Or—maybe not…" She stepped forward again. "Or maybe I should—."

Soul watched her for a few more moments before impatience got to him. "Just go in if you're going to go in already," he said. "Stop going back and forth!"

"But—," Maka began.

" _MAKAAAAAAAAA!"_

Maka stopped talking, springing back to avoid Spirit with an ease born out of decades of experience. Her father came careening down the hallway, arms outstretched as he ran past her. He skidded to a stop when he realized that she had moved, quickly backtracking and embracing her before she could react.

"Maka," Spirit said, tears in his eyes. "I'm so proud of you. You never get into any trouble—except for marrying _him_." The last was said with a backwards glare at Soul and with a vehemence that would have been alarming had the white-haired Death Scythe not already been used to it. Soul just rolled his eyes, one hand in his jacket pocket as he turned away from Spirit. Maka scowled, pushing his face away from her and doing her best to struggle out his hold.

"Papa, stop—," she said. "You're being embarrassing—."

"No, wait—," said Spirit, as Maka finally managed to extricate herself from his hold, turning to leave. "I just wanted to tell you a story. You're not going to believe what happened last night."

Maka gave him a suspicious look, frowning at him, but he seemed to have composed himself slightly now, and was even straightening out his tie. She gave him a hesitant nod. "O…kay," she said. "What's the story?"

"Well, I was at a bar last night—."

She raised her hand, cutting him off there. "Say no more," she said. "Soul?"

Soul nodded, stepping around Spirit to follow her as Maka began walking away. Spirit's eyes widened and he reached forward, grabbing her wrist. "Wait—that's not the story," he said. "I was at the bar, and then—."

"And then?" Maka asked, looking back.

Spirit blinked at her and then trailed off, tears filling his eyes again. He grabbed her head, pulling her into a hug that was almost a chokehold. " _Makaaaa!"_ he wailed. "I'm so happy that you've never had to go to a doctor for alcohol poisoning!"

Maka stared flatly as Spirit started shaking her head, tears dripping onto her shoulder. She raised her hand.

" _Maka Chop!"_

Spirit continued to wail, hands clasped over the top of his head as he fell to his knees. Maka straightened her blouse with a huff, turning away from him.

* * *

"I don't understand," said Clark. "What does he have that I don't have?"

"Confidence?" Morgan suggested, taking a sip of her soda.

"Self-esteem?" asked Rei, setting his burger down.

"A fashion sense?" suggested Ayame, grinning as she dipped a fry into her milkshake.

"Umm…" said Vayne, "…the ability to transform his body parts into weapons?"

Clark poked at his burger, looking miserable. "Thanks guys. Really."

"Anytime," said Rei, taking another bite. He frowned at Ayame, who popped the fry into her mouth with a grin before picking up another. "Fries _in_ your milkshake?"

"Yeah, it's good," said Ayame, waving a fry at him. "Here. Try it."

"I don't know…" Rei began.

"She's right," said Vayne, grinning as he snatched a fry off the table and leaned over towards Ayame's milkshake.

She quickly snatched it out of the way, glaring at him. "Get your own!"

"Sorry," said Vayne, giving her a sheepish smile and settling back into his seat. "Thought you were offering."

"I was," said Ayame, scowling at him. "But not to you."

She extended the shake towards Rei. He hesitated, then reached forward, barely dipping a fry in. It tasted surprisingly good, actually, the sweetness of the milkshake combining nicely with the saltiness of the fry. He blinked in surprise, and Ayame gave him a smug smile.

"Good?" she asked.

"Not…bad," he reluctantly admitted, going back to his own meal. The five of them ate in silence for a few moments before Clark spoke up.

"So," he said. "France. What happened there?"

Rei looked up from his phone, frowning at Clark. He wiped his mouth with a napkin before answering, noticing that both Morgan and Ayame were looking expectantly at him. "We ran into some trouble at Notre Dame," he said. "Someone killed our target and tried to kill us. We found out later that he's some kind of wanted criminal."

"Oh yeah, I heard about him," said Vayne, taking a long sip of his soda. "Wasn't he the dude that killed his own weapon or something?"

"Yeah," said Rei. "Micah Cole. It was two years ago."

The incident in question had made him think back to that time, trying to remember if he had seen or heard anything. It had been the year before he had entered the DWMA, and he thought that his parents had seemed more preoccupied than usual, but he hadn't really paid too much attention to it. Back then, he hadn't really cared much about what his parents were up to, and Maka and Soul didn't usually bring the disturbing aspects of their work home with them. That didn't mean that he wouldn't have found out more if he had just paid more attention, though, a failing that he was kicking himself for now.

Clark blinked, staring at Rei in surprise. "He killed his _weapon_?" he asked. "Why would he do that?"

Rei shrugged. "Shinigami-sama didn't elaborate," he said.

"Probably snapped, or something," said Ayame, snorting in derision. She tossed a handful of fries into her mouth, washing it down with a swig from her milkshake. "Who knows why people like that do anything?"

Morgan shook her head. "They have reasons," she said, her voice soft from the other end of the table. She wasn't quite looking at them. "People like that don't just…act without cause. Their reasons might not make sense to us, might not even be _right,_ but they exist."

"That doesn't _justify_ it though!" said Ayame, frowning at her.

"I'm not saying it does," said Morgan. "I'm just saying that even evil people have their reasons. And to deny that makes it harder to stop them from hurting anyone else."

Silence fell after that, the group sharing tentative glances with each other. Morgan, apparently aware that she had just made the situation uncomfortable, pushed her plate away from her and sat up straighter. Vayne attempted to break the silence.

"Still," he said, a nervous expression on his face as he looked around at the group. "It worked out, right? And the higher-ups will catch this guy. I mean, they're already on it, aren't they?"

"Yeah," said Rei, "Of course."

Ayame nodded. "There's no way that third-rate cardcaptor could stand up to people like _my_ dad," she said. "Someone will get him, don't worry about that."

"He's probably on Shinigami's List like fifty times," said Vayne off-handedly, taking another drink of soda.

"Eighty-eight, actually," said Clark, putting down his phone. "I just checked. Did you know there's an app for that?"

"So yeah," said Vayne. "It'll work out. Right, Morgan?"

Morgan looked up slowly from her plate, blinking at Vayne. It took a while for Vayne's words to break through her reverie, and when they did, she didn't look entirely convinced, but she nodded anyway.

"Yeah," she said. "It will."

* * *

A light rain had started to fall over the countryside, droplets of water getting caught in the boughs of the tree above him as he considered the DWMA base in the valley below them. Mordred folded his arms, watching it. To call it a base would be generous in this case, he thought. It was really little more than an outpost, but it would be ideal for their purposes.

If Micah could have been counted on to do _anything_ right, the DWMA would at this moment be chasing shadows, pointing fingers at each other instead of uniting to track down the very credible, _real_ threat that Micah now presented them with. An inconvenience to be sure, but there were other ways to make a point. Besides, if his intelligence was correct, this little outpost was likely harboring a much larger prize.

He turned towards the woman who stood next to him, watching the outpost with the same blank expression with which she studied anything. Even dressed entirely in black, studying the outpost with a dull, empty expression, she looked like a doll. Certainly younger than she actually was. Long blond hair ran across her shoulders and down her back, the only spot of color she was wearing at this moment. She blinked rain out of cool gray eyes, but otherwise did not move.

"Are you ready for this?" he asked, unsure of why he was still trying to make conversation with her. Perhaps the emptiness unnerved him on some level, but to think about that for too long would be unproductive. "You understand how important this is, don't you? Micah has already failed in his task. I trust that you won't do the same."

Silence, and then she nodded slowly, her expression still unchanged. Mordred was a sorcerer, nearly a thousand years old now, but he still felt a shiver run down his spine. He looked away from her, turning back towards the base.

"If you understand, go," he said.

She did, seeming to disappear from his sight as she faded into the shadows, making her way down the hill.

* * *

**Omake**

"Oh, so that's what happened," said Soul, scowling at Spirit from over his and Maka's kitchen table. The older Death Scythe held an ice pack to his head, looking mildly affronted as he wrapped up the story about meeting Shelley at the bar. "Why didn't you just say so in the first place?"

Spirit sniffed. "Well, after I saw how worried Stein was about Shelley, and then I saw Maka there…I just got so emotional about it. You'll understand when the girls are older."

"Yeah, right," said Soul with a snort, leaning back into his chair. "I'm never gonna be the creepy overprotective dad like you."

Maka glanced over at him from where she was walking back into the kitchen. "Well, it's great that you're saying that, Soul, because Cori has a playdate with a boy from her class this weekend."

"What?" asked Soul, his eyes widening as he sat up sharply. "Who is he? Where does he live? Do we know his parents?"

Maka frowned at him. "Why do you want to know?"

"Well, you know, he might be a creep."

"Soul, I'm pretty sure he's eight."

"Eight-year-olds can be creeps!" said Soul, jumping out of his chair as Maka started walking out of the kitchen. He hurried to follow her, hand outstretched. "Wait—Maka—you can't just drop that and leave!"

Spirit smirked, leaning back in his chair. "And so it begins…" he said.

"Stop being creepy!" Soul said, looking back into the room and glaring at him before running off. "Wait, Maka!"


	18. Group Resonance; A Test of Friendship!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's a little bit weird because I realized while I was writing it that I needed a time-skip to happen in the middle of the chapter. I indicated where the time skip happens, but I'm not entirely happy with how that part of the story turned out. Still, hope you like it, and hope you enjoy the rest of the story!

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

**Group Resonance; A Test of Friendship!**

* * *

Rei frowned as a knock came from their apartment's front door, pulling one of his earbuds out of his ears so that he could hear better. The knock came a second time, and he stepped away from the mixing bowl, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel and walking towards the sound.

He was making cookies. He didn't even know _why_ he was making cookies, only that Ayame was cleaning the apartment today and after a while, he felt guilty sitting on the couch and doing nothing, so he had walked into the kitchen. He frowned, pausing in the kitchen's entryway to look back at the mess of flour, eggs, and chocolate he had left on the countertop. Ayame couldn't cook to save her life, but she was surprisingly tidy, so very early on in their partnership, they'd settled into a routine where he did the cooking as long as she cleaned the house on the weekends. It started out as an arrangement that was convenient, but he worried that it was getting out of hand.

He walked through the living room, where the television—still on—was tuned to the cooking channel, further exacerbating his concerns. He felt himself scowl as he shuffled the few steps towards the door, the scowl coming in response to a mental argument with himself. Was it so bad if he liked cooking? They'd both starve to death if he let Ayame have her way in the kitchen.

He opened the door as the knock came again, trying (and not quite succeeding) to keep the surly expression from his face.

"What?" he asked.

He saw nothing at his eye level. Rei blinked, then looked down to see Annie standing there, clutching a little black backpack to herself uncertainly. He looked around, but there was no sign of Cori, and nothing of his parents except the hint of what looked like the family car driving away.

Bad sign, he thought, if they hadn't even bothered to park to drop Annie off. He looked back down at the girl, suddenly conscious of the fact that it was two in the afternoon and he was still wearing the clothes he'd woken up in.

"Hey, Annie," he said, trying to soften his expression. "What's up?"

"Mama and Papa had to go to a meeting," Annie said, blinking wide green eyes at him that seemed surprisingly resigned to all of this. "Mama says she tried to call you, but you didn't answer your phone. Can I stay with you for a bit?"

Rei winced, remembering the phone he had left in his room, upstairs. He pulled the other earbud out of his ear, shutting off the music as he turned towards Annie. "Sure," he said. "Come right in."

Annie stepped into the house, her expression remaining unchanged as she slipped her shoes off, padded into the kitchen, and took her seat at the kitchen table. Since this was where she and Cori normally sat when they were over, Rei didn't particularly mind. He went back to the mixing bowl, glad that Annie's arrival had given _some_ meaning to him being a teenage boy who decided to spend his Saturday afternoon baking double chocolate chip cookies that he had seen on the cooking channel.

The sound of the vacuum cleaner coming from upstairs died down, followed by an abrupt end to the upbeat, pop rock music that had accompanied it. He heard hurried footfalls as Ayame ran down the stairs.

"Rei, did you get the door?" she asked, peeking her head into the kitchen. She drew to a stop as she saw Annie, blinking at her. Annie didn't look up at Ayame's arrival, having already started coloring. She was used to Ayame's presence by now, which meant that she no longer tried to hide behind Rei or Cori when Ayame entered the room.

"Yeah," said Rei, glancing at Annie. "It was Mom and Dad dropping Annie off. Something about a meeting."

"A very _important_ meeting," Annie emphasized, drawing a thick red slash across the page.

"Oh, I see," said Ayame, grinning as she pulled up a seat next to Annie. "So, where's Cori, kiddo?"

"Cori couldn't come because she's playing at Will's house."

Rei tensed. "Oh yeah?" he asked, trying to sound casual about it as he looked over his mixing bowl. "Who's Will, Annie?"

"Boy from class," Annie said. "He gave Cori a flower."

Rei twitched, tightening his hold on the handle of the spatula he was using to scrape the sides of the bowl. "He did, did he?" he said. "So—uh, where does Will live, Annie?"

Annie looked at him sidelong from over her drawing. "You sound like Papa," she said.

"I do not!" said Rei. "I'm just wondering—."

Ayame took that as her cue to step in, drawing Annie's attention back to herself. "So—um—why don't you tell me what you're drawing?"

Annie blinked up at Ayame but seemed more comfortable talking to her at the moment than she did to Rei, which didn't really help his mood. He fumed, but went back to shaping the cookies and dropping them onto a cookie sheet. "I'm drawing Papa," she said, lowering her head again.

"That's cool," said Ayame. "But you know, there _are_ colors other than red and black…"

"I'm drawing him in scythe form," said Annie, drawing a black crayon across the page with a full five-fingered grip. "Papa's scythe form is red and black."

"What's this red spot here, then?" Ayame asked, pointing.

"The blood of his enemies."

"I—I see." Ayame drew her hand back, looking at Rei from the kitchen table. She caught his eye, giving him a look that he had seen many times from many different people over the past few years, one that roughly translated said 'There's something a little off about your sister…'

Rei waved his hand in response, forming a gesture that basically meant ' _don't worry'_ , or ' _just go with it'_. Annie's oddness was too long a story to get into right now. He looked back at the cookies he was making, forming another small ball between his hands and setting it on the sheet. His mind went back to the urgency with which his parents had dropped Annie off, Annie's insistence that they were going to an important meeting. There had been a few other 'important meetings' when he was a child, ones where Maka and Soul had pretty much had to drop everything and go. He'd ignored them back then, not really interested in the inner workings of the DWMA.

Now, he wondered…was something going on? Did it have anything to do with Micah?

He placed his hand over his chest unconsciously, feeling the edge of the bandage beneath his shirt. What was going on here, really?

There was nothing he could do about it now, so he lowered his hand before Ayame or Annie could notice that something was wrong.

"Cookies will be ready in a few minutes," he said, going back to work.

* * *

Maka stood next to Soul in the Death Room, watching as Kid established a connection with the East Asia branch through room's large mirror. The room was crowded today, occupied by most of the important staff of the DWMA, including Sid and Naigus, Stein and Marie, Ox and Harvar, her father, Mifune, Liz and Patty, and Angela and Shelley. The latter stood off to the side, on the other side of the circle from her parents, her arms folded as she turned towards the glowing mirror. There was a pause as the connection was made, and then the light faded as Azusa appeared in the glass of the mirror, a grim expression on her face.

"Azusa," Kid said. "You have a report?"

Azusa nodded, adjusting her glasses. "Yes," she said. "Thank you for assembling everyone on such short notice, Shinigami-sama." The thanks was delivered in Azusa's usual manner, without any warmth, as though she was running through a conversational checklist before they could get to the heart of the matter. She took only a moment to glance down at the notes in her hand before diving in.

Maka listened, a frown on her face. Kid had briefed them all on the events in East Asia shortly before Azusa came online to give her report. She didn't know the full story, but she knew some of the details, and the details were grim enough. A small DWMA outpost in the Japanese countryside had been attacked last night. As far as anyone knew, there were no survivors.

"We've conducted autopsies on the remains," Azusa said, in a matter-of-fact tone that belied anything she might have actually been feeling about the attack. "There were no marks on any of the bodies, none that we could see. It's as if their hearts simply stopped beating."

"Any sign of poisoning?" Stein asked, speaking up. "It could have been a gas of some sort. Have you looked at their lungs?"

"We haven't found anything conclusive," said Azusa, frowning at Stein. "We _have_ considered poison, of course."

Stein frowned, glancing at Kid. Kid nodded in response to the unspoken question and Stein half-turned away from the group, probably making arrangements to travel to Japan at that very moment.

"How about physical evidence?" Sid asked, talking over Stein. "Did you find out how the killer got in the building?"

"The assassin entered from the front wall of the compound," Azusa said. "He or she scaled the wall, dispatched the gate guards, and then proceeded into the building proper. As far as I can tell, the killer was able to move unnoticed for some time before an alarm was raised. By then, they had already managed to infiltrate the base."

Ox looked up from where he was tapping away at a small device, the light reflecting off of his glasses. He stepped forward and laid it in the center of the circle, moving back. As Maka watched, a light spread up from it, forming a pattern in the air that quickly resolved into a 3D model of the base. The conversation paused as people's eyes moved towards it, and Ox smirked proudly, folding his arms.

"The R&D team's newest development," he said. "It has the locations of several DWMA bases already pre-programmed." He pulled his phone out of his pocket, tapping at it, and the model swiveled around, zooming in on the front of the compound. "You said the assassin entered from the front?"

"Yes," said Azusa, nodding. A red line passed through the front of the compound at Ox's direction, moving through the assassin's probable path. "After that, the details are a little difficult. What we do know was that the alarm was triggered when the attacker found the entrance to the basement, and was located in the second basement level."

"What about security footage?" Kid asked.

Azusa shook her head. "We had one image of the attacker," she said. "After that, the cameras were knocked out. Some sort of electromagnetic pulse."

"The image?" Harvar asked.

"It's here," said Azusa, nodding. "But I think you'll agree that it's not very helpful."

She waved her hand, and an image appeared on the surface of the mirror, time-stamped for 12:49 AM local time. It was a grainy picture, showing a figure robed in black standing just outside the base's front door, a hand outstretched towards one of the gate guards. From this distance, it was almost impossible to make out any details about the killer, including their gender.

Maka squinted, but couldn't make out anything more than that.

Kid frowned, turning his attention to the hologram that Ox had made. It depicted a building with three basement levels, extending down from the surface. Below the third basement level, the light collected into something that might have been a floor, but was too fuzzy to see. He looked back at Azusa. "Did they make it to the fourth level?" he asked.

Azusa's expression grew grimmer. "They did," she said. "They managed to break through the vault there, killing the guards and bypassing the security system."

"And the artifact?" Kid asked.

"It's gone," said Azusa.

"Artifact?" Maka asked.

"The Magatama," Azusa said, before Kid could speak. "An artifact that predates the creation of Demon Weapons. The East Asia branch of the DWMA has been housing it in one location or another for centuries."

"It's a weapon?" Soul asked.

"Of sorts," said Kid, "Although it's fickle. No one has actually managed to use it for centuries. Not because of its personality, or anything like that. As far as I'm aware, the Magatama doesn't have anything resembling a true personality, but it does have some sort of a will. It hasn't chosen to bond with anyone in a long while. With the advent of Demon Weapons, its purpose seems to have become redundant."

There was a long pause while everyone considered the implications of that. Maka took a deep breath, deciding to say what they were all thinking.

"So this assassin has it," she said. "Can they use it?"

"I don't know," Kid said, glancing at Azusa for confirmation. When she didn't contradict him, he went on. "We have to assume that that's the case though." He stopped to think for a moment, lacing his fingers together from where he sat at his desk, then nodded solemnly, looking up at Azusa. "Thank you for your report," he said. "I'd like to ask the East Asia branch to increase its security and continue investigations. We'll send reinforcements from the intelligence branch to assist with that." He glanced at Sid and Naigus as he spoke and Sid nodded, making a note.

"Thank you, Shinigami-sama," Azusa said, inclining her head. "We will, of course, accept any assistance that you can spare."

The connection broke, the mirror becoming purely reflective once again. Kid looked around the room in the silence that followed, looking at each of them in turn. No one spoke, everyone watching him expectantly.

"I suppose, given the events of this week, that it's safe to say we have a situation," he said. "Stein, how soon can you get to Japan?"

"I can be there tomorrow, if I leave now," Stein said, turning his bolt with one hand. "Have Azusa keep the bodies in storage."

"I'm sure she's already working on that," said Kid, tapping something out onto the small mirror mounted into the center of his desk. "I'll let her know regardless. Soul."

"Yeah?" asked Soul, looking up.

"I want an alert sent out to the other branches. Tell them what we know about both Micah and this…Assassin, and warn them about the Magatama. If they see or hear anything suspicious, they're to report it in directly."

Soul nodded. "On it."

"Ox, Harvar, I want whatever you can find on the Magatama in the records."

"We're on it," said Ox, already thumbing through something on his phone.

Kid looked away from him, turning to Maka. "Maka, we can't assume that the attack on Rei was an isolated incident. We aren't going to put a halt on student missions, but warn the students that there may be other attacks on one-star meisters in the future."

Maka nodded in response, her expression grave. Kid moved on, turning towards the others.

"Sid, Naigus, I'll leave the details of the intelligence contingent we're sending to assist Azusa to you. Angela, Shelley, make sure that Kim knows what we're dealing with. See if she can gather any information from the Assembly, in any way she sees fit. Spirit and Mifune, work on increasing our security."

Nods followed each of his pronouncements, a handful of people already getting to work on their phones.

Marie looked up. "And me?" she asked.

"Go with Stein," said Kid. "Azusa didn't say anything about madness, but if this is connected to the isolated outbreaks of madness in Europe, I'd rather you were there. We can't afford any more surprises."

Marie nodded, already turning towards Stein. Kid looked around at the group.

"Any questions?" he asked. When no one answered, he said, "If there are no questions, dismissed. Let me know what you find. And get to work."

* * *

"Group resonance is more difficult than resonance between partners," Stein said, walking around the three of them, three weeks later. "As a rule, the more people involved in a resonance chain, the more powerful that resonance is, and the harder it is to maintain."

Morgan, Rei, and Clark stood facing each other, forming a triangle in a clearing in the training forest, weapons in hand. Rei had chosen Ayame's kusarigama form for this, the form he was most familiar with. To his left, Clark stood with one end of Vayne's curved blade thrust into the earth, the other pointing up at the sky, so that the blade was in front of him, parallel with him. To his right, Morgan held the grimoire open, the sun shining down on blank pages as she closed her eyes. It was late September, but still hot enough in Death City that sweat trickled down the back of his neck, the sun beating down on them from just above the trees. He kept his eyes on Stein, doing his best to focus on the professor as he continued to lecture. It was difficult going, considering Stein seemed to have a habit of getting behind him.

He finally found a spot between Clark and Morgan, directly across from Rei. Rei turned his eyes on him, trying to relax and focus as he held Ayame's hilts loosely in his hands. The chain hovered in place around him, Ayame listening as well from within her soul space.

"I could go back over the procedures involved in a group resonance, but we've been over this enough in class," Stein said, his hands clasped behind his back. "The only way to learn how to do it is to practice. So begin."

Rei nodded, exchanging glances with Morgan and Clark. Stein had been leading up to their first practical training for the past couple of weeks, so the three of them had already had some time to discuss how they were going to attempt their first resonance chain. At their nods, Rei closed his eyes, reaching for Ayame. She closed her eyes as well, her soul reaching for his.

Over the past year of their partnership, Ayame's soul wavelength had become intensely familiar to him. They resonated easily, and Rei felt her wavelength boost his, amplifying it until his soul swelled to fill the space around him. He reached out with his Soul Perception, trusting Ayame to maintain their bond, and felt for Morgan and Clark.

Their soul wavelengths brushed against his, entangled in their own separate resonances. He felt the steady beat of Cassie's wavelength lacing through Morgan's more sedate soul, felt the familiar crackle of Vayne's Soul Response as it threaded through Clark's soul like lightning. He drew in a deep breath.

"Clark," he said, the same way they had planned it.

"Rei," Clark echoed, and Rei felt him nod in the fuzzy half-sight his Soul Perception lent him.

He reached for Clark's soul. It was hard, harder than expected, but they had planned it this way for a reason. He had never tried to resonate with another meister, but Vayne's wavelength, while it clashed with his for some reason, was one that he was very familiar with. When they'd discussed this in their theoretical conversations, the hope had been that Rei and Vayne's connection would make it easiest for the two of them to establish a link.

Their wavelengths slid against each other for one annoying, frustrating moment before they connected, a tendril of light connecting his and Clark's soul. Rei felt his own Soul Response swell to accommodate this sudden influx of power, felt the sudden presences that were Clark and Vayne entwined together. It was distracting, and he felt his and Ayame's concentrations waver. Ayame hissed a curse under her breath as their link fizzled and nearly died out, but they quickly reconnected, the resonance link becoming stable again. Rei waited for a few heartbeats, catching his breath, and then _felt_ Clark's intent as he started reaching towards Morgan.

"Morgan," he said.

Morgan echoed him. "Clark."

That had been the second part of the plan. Out of the three of them, Clark was the only one that had the ability to turn his Soul Wavelength into an attack, which naturally made him the best out of the three of them at controlling it. The middle link in the chain would have to juggle two different resonances before participants one and three could get their acts together, so they'd decided as a group to let Clark and Vayne handle this part. Rei felt his link with Clark falter for a moment as Clark concentrated on Morgan, then come back in full force as the two of them established resonance, another tendril of light connecting their souls together.

The only thing left to do was close the circle, a resonance link between Morgan and Rei.

"Morgan," Rei said.

"Rei," Morgan said in return.

He reached for her soul, ignoring the pounding in his head that told him he was starting to push his Soul Perception to its limits. He felt her soul reach for him in turn, a thin tendril of light rising up from the entity that was somehow both her and Cassie at once. He felt Ayame at his back, closer than she had ever been, feeding his wavelength with more power. It was a warmth that blossomed across his soul like fire, boosting it across the extra space between his soul and Morgan's.

They connected in a flash of light and Rei froze, a sudden influx of information pouring into him from Morgan through their resonance.

The resonance chain shattered like glass, shards of light flying apart as their souls retreated back into themselves. The sudden separation was disorienting, and it took Rei a while to catch his breath, a while to remember which way was up. He opened his eyes, breathing hard, his face pale and his skin cold and clammy. Fear, coming from a source he couldn't pinpoint, raced through him, making his heart speed up.

Something was wrong. Something, somewhere was wrong. He couldn't figure out what it was.

" _Rei?"_ Ayame asked, sounding concerned. She opened her eyes, looking up at him through the bright blue void around her. _"Rei? What's wrong, Rei?"_

He shook his head, sucking in a breath through his teeth and looked up at the others. Morgan and Clark looked confused and a little strained, but not _afraid_. They exchanged glances with each other and turned towards him. He opened his mouth, his mind already trying to supply him with something to _say_ , but he was saved by Stein straightening up and walking towards them, the professor not looking at all surprised.

"Well," he said. "It's not unusual for it to take a few times. You have the whole hour. Try again."

Clark eyed each of them in turn, then nodded, his meaning plain as he adjusted his grip on Vayne's handle and closed his eyes: _Ready when you are_. Morgan did the same, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear before holding Cassie out again and closing her eyes. Rei hesitated a moment before he let his eyes drift closed, his heart still pounding.

" _Rei?"_ Ayame asked. _"Talk to me."_

"It's nothing," Rei mumbled under his breath. "Started to lose the link and panicked. We'll try again."

But it wasn't nothing. He thought he knew exactly where the problem had come from, even though he didn't know what it was, remembered the exact instant their connection broke, the moment he felt Morgan's soul come into contact with his.

There was something _wrong_ with Morgan's soul.

He just didn't know what.

* * *

" _Karaoke!"_ yelled half the class, the half containing Rhythm and Rhyme, Jonas, Vayne and Ayame.

" _Café!"_ the other, less vocal half, yelled in reply, Cassie and Ophelia taking the lead as Morgan and Yorick, Ophelia's hulking, surly beast of a partner, glowered behind them.

Clark looked on helplessly from the front of the room as the two halves continued to yell at each other, now split equally along the center by an aisle of no-man's land occupied only by Rei and a handful of other fence sitters. His eyes widened as a paper ball sailed across the aisle from the karaoke side, only to be followed by a handful of pencils from the café side.

"C-Calm down," Clark said, holding his hands out to either side of him. "I'm sure we can settle this like reasoning—." He yelped as what looked like somebody's lunch sailed through the air towards him, striking the chalkboard with a _splat_ as he jumped aside. _"Maka-sensei!"_

Maka looked up from where she was grading papers in the corner of the room, ostensibly moderating the discussion. " _Class_!" she said, sharply. "We don't throw things to make a point!"

A hush followed, broken by a commotion on the karaoke side of the room as people started nudging each other.

Someone spoke up. "Sorry, Maka-sensei…"

Another voice, closer to the front of the room, coughed a word that sounded suspiciously like 'snitch'.

Rei rolled his eyes, propping his head up in his hand as the discussion resumed around him. The class was arguing about what to do for the Death Festival, the only consensus being that Jonas should be kept very far away from chemicals. At the moment, the jury was split between a karaoke booth and a quiet café. Rei, who normally might have had some sort of opinion, couldn't bring himself to care at the moment. His mind was still wrapped up in thinking about their failed resonance chain, about the darkness he'd sensed in Morgan's soul.

He looked over at Ayame as she led another volley of chants and insults for the karaoke group, wondering why she even cared. The two of them had registered for the tournament _yesterday_ ; it wasn't like they would be involved in running the booth regardless. Rei sighed, looking over at Morgan again.

If he activated his Soul Perception, something that in a room like this didn't really take too much effort, but made him go slightly cross-eyed with all the information he was getting, he could see her soul. It looked normal to his eye, a deep-violet orb hanging in the center of her chest, reclusive, but not out of the ordinary.

And yet…that hadn't been what he had felt earlier. He had only caught a glimpse of it, but it hadn't felt normal. It felt…familiar in a way, familiar enough that it had broken his concentration completely.

He looked away from Morgan as a particularly loud yell rose up from the karaoke side of the class, turning his attention back to Clark, who was desperately trying to keep order. He took a step back, his hands upraised towards the class as he turned to Maka with wide eyes.

"Maka-sensei," he said, a note of pleading in his voice. "Don't you have an opinion?"

"Clark, this is your booth," said Maka, offering him a smile from over the papers she was grading. "This shouldn't be about what I want. It should be about what you all want for your class."

"But—" Clark began.

The door at the front of the room opened, Ox Ford poking his head in. Maka pushed herself up to her feet, frowning at him in question as he stepped into the room.

"Maka, do you have any extra chalk?" he asked. Before Maka could answer, Ox turned his head towards the board, taking in the two words written on it, one on each side of the room: _Karaoke_ and _Café._ He smirked, folding his arms as he turned to Clark and paying no attention to the yelling going on in the rows behind him.

"Trying to plan your booth?" he asked. "That's cute. If I were you, I wouldn't go with karaoke. _My_ class is doing a karaoke booth for the Festival, and it will obviously be better than any karaoke booth _this_ class can throw together." He turned, snatching up a box of chalk from the sill beneath the chalkboard and pocketing it as he left the room. "Thanks for the chalk," he said, as the door closed behind him.

The class continued to argue, but Rei's eyes were on his mother. She had her head bowed, her hands clenched into fists at her side, and he found himself cringing as she stepped forward, swiping the chalk out of Clark's hands and all but pushing him out of the way as she turned to face the class.

"Class, we're doing a karaoke booth!" she said, slamming the chalk into the board loud enough to get the students' attention. "That's final!"

Rei groaned, covering his face with his hands as a wave of dissatisfied mutters rose up from the right side of the room, drowned out by the whoops of triumph coming from the left side. Students started moving to their seats at Maka's direction, Ayame dropping down into the seat beside him with a self-satisfied grin as Clark started dejectedly making his way up the steps. Morgan swept past him as she made her way back to her seat, and he peered at her from between his fingers, absentmindedly activating his Soul Perception.

His eyes widened. He saw her soul, just as he had earlier, but there was something else, something that he only noticed now that she was walking past him, now that she was closer.

The bracelet on her wrist shimmered in his Soul Perception, emitting the faintest glow.

* * *

He waited until the end of class to talk to her about it, waited until he could find a moment when the two of them would be alone. He finally caught her at the end of the day, when she was standing at her locker looking through her books and Cassie was nowhere in sight. The hallway was empty now, the setting sun shining in through the large, open windows to his left and illuminating the hall in bright orange.

Morgan looked up as he approached, a frown on her face.

"We need to talk," Rei said, stopping just in front of her locker. He kept his voice low. It was the end of the day, and there wasn't anyone directly around them, but the school wasn't quite empty yet. Indeed, as soon as he approached her, a group of first-year E.A.T. students passed by, talking in excited voices, and Morgan shot them a look as they passed before turning back towards Rei.

"What did you want to talk about?" she asked, her tone clipped, as if he was suddenly the last person she wanted to see.

"What happened in Stein's class," Rei said, "When we were resonating. There was something strange about your soul."

"There's nothing wrong with my soul," Morgan said, frowning at him. "You must have been imagining things."

"Your wavelength felt familiar somehow, and it took me a while to figure out where I'd felt it before," Rei said, talking quickly before she had a chance to retreat. "In the red house, back during our first mission. I felt a Witch's Soul. At first, I thought it was just the ghost Ayame and I were fighting, but I spent a lot of time with that soul on the way back here, and it wasn't the same wavelength. I always thought it was just because I wasn't used to using my Soul Perception—that I'd gotten my signals crossed somehow—but it was you all along, wasn't it?"

She stared at him, her eyes on his, and he saw her eyes widen, a hint of fear in them for half a second. She looked to her right, as if expecting Cassie to be standing there, and when she wasn't, looked back at Rei, the fear disappearing and replacing itself with anger. Her eyes narrowed and she stepped back, closing her locker door. "I don't know what you're talking about, Rei," she said. "Now, if you excuse me, I'm _very_ tired, and just want to go home."

She started to walk past him. Rei reached out, grabbing her arm. Morgan jerked to a stop, shooting a venomous look at him over her shoulder, but the action had given him time to examine her bracelet a little closer. Now that he looked at it, he noticed that not only was it infused with a soul wavelength, it was a wavelength that he recognized. Without thinking, he reached out with his free hand, running a finger over the knot that bound the bracelet to her.

"You're wearing Kimial Diehl's magic on your wrist," he said, looking back at Morgan's eyes. "Why?"

She jerked her hand back as if his touch had burned her, encircling the bracelet protectively with her other hand. "That's none of your business," she said.

"Morgan, if you're…what I think you are, it is my business," said Rei. He drew in a breath, watching her as she stared at him, and his expression softened, a note of pleading creeping into his voice. "Please, just tell me what's going on. Maybe I can help you."

Morgan shook her head, her own expression softening as well. She lowered her eyes to the ground.

"You can't help me, Rei…" she muttered, almost too soft for him to hear.

He wasn't entirely sure he had heard right. "What was that?" he asked.

"Nothing," said Morgan, her eyes snapping back up to meet his. "Just—just trust me, okay. I can't tell you what's going on, but it's not…whatever you think it is. I would never hurt you, or the DWMA, or anyone here. So…please. Please, just trust me."

He looked her in the eye and was surprised by what he saw there. Fear, mostly, not something that he usually saw in Morgan. She watched him, and he saw the fear in her eyes, saw the realization that he could do anything now, that all he had to do was report her and it would be all over for her. He stared at her, trying to determine whether or not she was lying, and found that he couldn't tell, but he was surprised to find that it didn't matter.

He trusted her. No matter who else she was, she was still Morgan. Still one of his friends, and still the girl that had somehow found her way to France to help him and Ayame.

Rei exhaled, a part of him wondering if he was making a bad choice, and slowly released her. "I do," he said. "I trust you, Morgan."

She nodded mutely, meeting his eyes for a moment more. And then she abruptly looked away, ducking her head to hide her expression as she disappeared down the hallway.


	19. Death Fest Redux; Once Upon a Halloween

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

**Death Fest Redux; Once Upon a Halloween**

* * *

" _Senbonzakura, yoru ni magire, kimi no koe mo todokanai yo…"_

Ayame pranced across Class Moonless Night's brightly lit stage, a microphone in her hand as she sang out the lyrics to yet another song. Rei frowned from his seat in a darker corner of the karaoke booth, looking up at Clark and Vayne who were standing in front of him. He shrugged.

"You're the ones who built her a stage," Rei said, looking up at them. "Now you want to get her off of it? Good luck with that."

"Please, Rei?" said Clark, "She listens to you."

Rei frowned, looking around Class Moonless Night's karaoke booth, and at the increasingly agitated line that had formed behind Ayame. He checked his watch and looked back at Clark.

"We have a match in twenty minutes," he said.

"Just talk to her?" Clark asked, looking stressed as always on the day of the Death Festival. "Otherwise all those people are going to go to Class Full Moon's booth, and you know Maka-sensei is taking this kind of seriously."

Inwardly, Rei groaned. The contest between his mother and Ox-sensei from Class Full Moon was starting to get out of hand. He'd been training for the tournament for the past month, so he'd been spared the worst of it, but the two classes had set up their karaoke booths next door to each other, and had even placed a voting table between them, encouraging visitors to try both booths and vote on which one they thought was best. Rei, knowing full well how his mother could be when she had it in her mind to do something, did not want to touch the contest with a ten foot pole.

But he looked up anyway as Ayame drew to the end of her song, raising his hand to catch her attention. She blinked at him, squinting in the spotlight, and smiled brightly, handing the microphone over to the next person in line and leaping off the stage to join him. She was wearing her best impression of a Halloween-themed school uniform today, with a black pleated skirt that he had last seen disappearing into her shopping basket last summer in Tokyo, and an orange and black top.

"What's up?" she asked, clasping her hands together behind her back.

"Clark and Vayne want you to tone it down," said Rei, shrugging. "Apparently they want someone else to have a turn on stage."

"Hey, leave me out of this," said Vayne, holding both of his hands up with his palms out. "I'm just here as the moral support."

Ayame frowned at Rei, not at Clark, which Rei privately thought was ridiculously unfair. "It's not like there've been any complaints."

"Actually, there have been!" said Clark, looking frazzled as he waved his clipboard at Ayame. "There have been, like, so many complaints!"

"From who?" Ayame asked.

"Oh, you know," said Clark. "From people who _don't_ worship the ground you walk on."

"Oh, then who cares?"

"Ayame—," Rei began.

He was cut off by Clark whirling around suddenly, facing the door. Rei, Ayame, and Vayne frowned, the three of them turning to follow his gaze.

"Why is he here?" Clark asked, narrowing his eyes at Ethan, who had stepped in through the door.

"Uh…cause it's a free country?" Vayne suggested.

Clark scowled, watching as Ethan walked over to where Cassie was seated at their makeshift sound booth, resting his arms on the side as he leaned over and smiled at her. She glanced at him and unhooked one of her headphones off of her ear, saying something that none of them could catch at this distance.

"Doesn't he have his own booth to run?" Clark asked.

"I think he's in the tournament too," said Ayame.

"I see…" Clark stared at Ethan for a moment more before looking back at Rei. "Kick his butt for me?"

"He's in a different group from us," said Rei.

"Then let him get to the finals, and _then_ kick his butt."

Rei opened his mouth to say that he couldn't really control who got into the finals and who didn't, but was cut off by Ayame nudging him sharply in the side.

"You got it!" Ayame chirped, giving Clark a thumbs up.

Rei rubbed at his side, glaring at her.

"Hey, Rei," Vayne said, before he could complain. "Aren't those your sisters?"

Rei looked up at those words, turning towards the door. Sure enough, Annie and Cori were walking in, Annie looking around uncertainly as she held onto Cori's arm with both of her own. Cori looked around, her eyes searching the audience, then grinned as she saw Rei, dragging Annie up towards him.

"Rei!" Cori said. "Mama said you'd be in here!"

Rei frowned at them. "What are you guys doing here?" he asked.

"We wanted to say hi," said Cori, thrusting her hands into her pockets. "We've got a lot of Halloween candy, see?" She drew out a double handful of candy in bright orange wrappers, offering some to Clark, Ayame and Vayne. Vayne grinned, taking one and placing a hand on her head.

"Don't mind if I do, kiddo," he said.

Clark's scowl eased somewhat, a reluctant smile coming onto his face as he turned towards Cori. "Thanks," he said, taking a candy.

Rei looked around, as if expecting Maka or Soul to pop out of the woodwork. "Mom and Dad aren't with you?" he asked.

Cori scowled at him, drawing herself up to her full height and puffing her chest out proudly. "We're eight and a half!" she said. "We can take care of ourselves!"

Next to her, Annie didn't look quite so sure of that, pulling in close to Cori as people started moving around them.

"Well, as long as you're here, would either of you like to take the stage?" Clark asked, looking up as the first singer after Ayame finished her song. "Now that _someone's_ finally finished her turn." Ayame rolled her eyes at that, pushing her hair off her shoulder and standing prouder.

"Um…I don't mind, but Annie doesn't really sing," said Cori. "She only knows Disney songs too."

"We can do Disney," said Vayne, grinning.

"No, we can't," said Rei, frowning at Vayne.

"Sure we can," said Vayne. "It'll be fun."

"No, it won't," said Rei. "It'll be silly and—hey! Where's Ayame?" He turned around, suddenly realizing that his partner was no longer standing beside him.

The lights flicked on again, focusing on a figure standing on the stage. He slapped a hand to his face as Ayame raised the mic to her mouth, a familiar melody ringing out through the speakers.

" _I'm gonna be a mighty king, so enemies beware!"_

At a wave from her, Jonas stepped up onto the stage with a grin, doing his best impression of Zazu. _"Well I've never seen a king of beasts with quite so little hair!"_

She took that as a cue to shake out her blue hair, grinning at the audience. _"I'm gonna be the mane event…"_

"We're going to miss our match…" Rei groaned, hanging his head.

"Come on," said Vayne, throwing an arm around his shoulder. "It's gonna be fine. Hakuna matata."

Clark smirked, adjusting his glasses. "Hakuna matata," he said, sidling up to Rei's other side. "What a wonderful phrase."

"Oh, please no," said Rei.

" _Hakuna matata,"_ said Vayne, picking up on his cue. _"Ain't no passing craaaaaaze…"_

"And I'm out," said Rei, pulling out of their holds just as they started on the chorus. "Tell Ayame I'll meet her at the match site."

He slipped out from the room before either of them could bring him back, the Lion King medley resounding behind him. Still, he couldn't help the grudging smile that came onto his face as he closed the door behind him, walking down the hallway.

* * *

"Any signs of life?" Angela asked Shelley, keeping her voice low as the two of them crouched in the shadows of the empty DWMA research facility, one of her spells thrown up around them to keep them invisible to anyone who might be watching. Her magic could, in theory, disguise their voices, but Angela kept her voice low just in case.

Shelley adjusted her glasses, looking around the room with a frown of intense concentration that told Angela that she was using her Soul Perception. She shook her head, turning back to Angela.

"Nothing that I can see," she said, keeping her voice low as well. "But stay on your guard anyway."

Angela nodded, surveying the area. They'd gotten a tip from one of their intelligence agents that the Assassin would strike this base next, and so it had been evacuated in preparation for the Assassin's arrival, with the only security left in place being the automated security that Jinn Galland had left in place, and Angela and Shelley.

Privately, Angela thought that the automated security systems were an unnecessary redundancy.

"You don't think the Assassin saw us preparing and decided to call it a day, do you?" Angela asked, folding her arms and leaning against the wall. Her magic would keep her hidden whether she was standing or crouching, so there was really no point in being uncomfortable.

Shelley opened her mouth to reply, then immediately closed it, her eyes narrowing as she glanced at something invisible off to her right. "I've got movement," she said, pressing a hand to her ear to activate her earpiece. Angela tensed.

"Where?" she asked.

"Twenty-three degrees to my right. About twenty…no, thirty meters away. Around the front gate and coming in fast."

Angela took the moment to heave an exaggerated sigh, making a show of adjusting her skirt and making sure that her hat was firmly in place as she peeled herself off of the wall. Outwardly, she looked bored, even though her heart was already pounding with the excitement of an impending battle. Just one of the habits that she and Shelley had fallen into over the years.

"Typical of Shinigami," she said, "Making a witch work on Halloween. Should we go earn our pay, Shelley?"

"I guess we'd better," said Shelley, shooting her a smirk that was almost but not quite reminiscent of happier times.

Angela held out her hand and the weapon stood up, transforming in a flash of light as she did. She settled into Angela's hand, becoming a familiar naginata, a long spear with a blade whose curvature reminded Angela vaguely of an oversized scalpel. She tightened her grip on the spear's shaft, tugging the brow of her witch's hat down.

"One Assassin soul, coming right up," she said, keeping her cloaking spell up as she started off down the hallway towards their target.

* * *

Unlike the colosseum, which had ample seating for anyone who wanted to come view the matches, space at the grass field tournament site was limited, and mostly consisted of people getting as close as they could to the ropes that cordoned off the match area, or giving up and finding somewhere with a good view of the battle. By the time Vayne had managed to get away from the karaoke booth to watch one of Rei and Ayame's matches, a crowd had already gathered, blocking the fields from view.

Ordinarily, that might have been a problem, but since he was with Morgan, he grabbed her wrist followed her lead as she slipped through the crowd, managing to move people out of her way with a combination of glares and angry looks as she drew them past the spectators, finally coming to a stop right up against the ropes, with a perfect view of the middle of the field.

He released her wrist as she stopped walking, a smile on his face as he drew up beside her. Across from him, Rei and Ayame were already getting ready to fight, squaring off against their opponents, a third-year weapon and meister team that Vayne didn't know. He came to stand next to Morgan, watching them warm up, and smiled as he saw her start to relax out of the corner of his eye.

"It's nice to finally get out of that dark room," he said, tilting his face up and into the sunlight that rained down from overhead.

"Tell me about it," said Morgan. He looked over at her, surprised.

"I thought you don't like the sun," he said.

"I don't," said Morgan. "I just can't take another round of 'oh Ethan, you're so sweet', 'no, _you're_ sweet, Cassie'."

"Ugh, tell me about it," said Vayne, rubbing the back of his neck. "You should see what I have to deal with. At least Clark's too busy with the booth right now to complain."

"He didn't _look_ that busy when he was up on stage with Ayame," said Morgan, the hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of her lip.

"Ah, well, you know," said Vayne. "Sometimes you just need a break. Speaking of which, how come I haven't seen you up on stage yet, Morgan?"

A shy smile appeared on her face, and she turned away, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. "I'm, uh, let's just say I'm not the singing type."

Vayne grinned, raising his hand as Rei and Ayame spotted them. Ayame grinned back from her corner of the field, swinging her arm back and forth in an enthusiastic wave. Beside her, however, Rei only frowned, his eyes drifting from Vayne to Morgan. The smile dropped away from Morgan's face as he spotted her, and while she inclined her head towards them in greeting, she turned slightly, keeping her face away from them. Vayne watched her out of the corner of his eye, suddenly concerned.

"Everything alright?" he asked.

"Yeah," said Morgan, not looking up. "Why wouldn't it be?"

He drew in a breath, wondering if he should ask about it, and then decided it was probably nothing. It wasn't as if the six of them hadn't fought amongst themselves since forming their team, and although Rei and Morgan were the last two people that he would have expected would start fighting with each other, he was fairly confident that the situation would resolve itself if given time.

He let the matter drop, turning his attention back towards the fight.

* * *

The desert wind whipped at Angela's face as she rose up above the DWMA base, one hand on the shaft of her spear to steady herself as she perched neatly on it, both of her legs hanging off one side. Below her, she saw the base in detail, her eyes quickly picking out the form of the intruder. A slight figure, as confirmed by the information they had on the target, dressed all in black and moving rapidly across outer courtyard of the base.

The Assassin might have been difficult to spot, had Angela and Shelley not had the amount of experience they had. Angela drew in a breath, calculating the distance between them, the speed at which the figure was moving.

" _What's the plan?"_ Shelley asked from within her Soul Space, looking up at her from a void of light gray.

"Let's get this over with quickly," Angela muttered, tightening her hold on the spear's shaft. Shelley nodded in response, her expression growing serious as the wind picked up around her weapon form.

Angela moved quickly, before the enemy had time to react. She launched herself over the side of her perch, dragging the spear down with her as she fell from the sky. As she fell, she gripped the spear with both hands, narrowing her eyes as she angled the point below her, the wind whipping around them and coiling around the spear's blade.

The spell that concealed her and Shelley broke at the last moment, the spear's point stabbing straight through the Assassin's back. The Assassin's back arched as Angela landed on the ground, Shelley's spear point erupting from the figure's chest. Angela exhaled in relief as she straightened up.

And then the Assassin shattered into a million fragments of bright light, and Angela whirled around, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

The real Assassin was crouched a few feet away from her, a pale pink light gleaming in her hand. Angela had a moment to take in the fact that the Assassin was a woman, that the hair beneath the hood of her cloak was a fine blond, and that she was wearing a mask that covered all of her face, half of the mask painted white and the other half painted black, before the Assassin was on her, the light in her hand shifting to form a square blade that jutted outward from her wrist.

The Assassin ducked just inside of the range of Angela's spear, her movements lithe and catlike as she raised her arm, bringing it sweeping down on top of Angela's head.

Angela moved quickly, the wind that wrapped tightly around Shelley flaring up as she spun the spear around, knocking the Assassin's blade away with the spear's shaft. She leveled the naginata, thrusting it straight at the Assassin's chest. The Assassin leaped back out of the way of the thrust, executing a graceful backflip before getting to her feet.

She reached out with her free hand, her fingers piercing straight through the blade of light attached to her arm, and it parted like liquid, becoming a thin knife in her left hand. The remainder of the light formed a dagger in her right hand, the blades solidifying as she closed her fingers around them.

" _The Magatama,"_ Shelley said, frowning at the light from behind her glasses.

Angela nodded. "I noticed," she said, sinking into a wider stance as the Assassin leaped to the side, running towards Angela's left in an attempt to flank her.

Her eyes darted to the left as the Assassin charged, and Angela turned, swinging the spear's blade in a wide arc to cut off her approach. The Assassin jerked back, avoiding the slash, then stepped in after the blade had passed, moving rapidly towards Angela's other side.

Angela leaped to avoid the cut as the Assassin slashed at her face, bringing the spear point around and slamming it down into the ground in front of the Assassin a half-second before the other woman's foot moved into that space. She quickly snapped the spear point back up, thrusting at the Assassin's face before the Assassin had time to react. The Assassin didn't jerk back or cry out, instead ducking to her right to avoid the blow.

Angela scowled, the wind whipping around her spear as she flipped it over, thrusting the butt of the shaft at the Assassin's midsection. That strike connected, driving the Assassin back with a powerful crack and giving Angela time to leap away, the wind wrapping itself around her as she darted into the shadows again, throwing up another cloaking spell.

"Something's wrong," she said to her partner as she moved, trying to flank the Assassin.

Shelley nodded from within her soul space, pushing up her glasses with one hand. _"She's too calm,"_ Shelley said. _"It's more than just training. It's like she's…empty."_

"I know," Angela said. "Creepy, right?"

" _Stay on your guard,"_ Shelley said.

"You don't have to tell me twice." She muttered an incantation under her breath, then pitched her voice to carry, creating the illusion that she was standing directly in front of the Assassin. And directly beside her. And to her right and to her left. A multitude of Angelas appeared from the darkness around her, standing around the Assassin in a circle while the real one remained safely hidden, her back to one of the base's walls.

"You are wanted for crimes against the DWMA," the Angela in front of the Assassin said, her voice as loud and imperious as Angela wished her own voice could sound naturally. "Surrender, and if you cooperate, you may be allowed to live. Fight, and your soul is forfeit."

She didn't really expect the Assassin to cooperate. What she did expect was for her words to get a rise out of her, for some sort of human emotion to break the stillness that seemed to surround the other woman. For something, some sort of clue as to who she was and who had sent her.

What she didn't expect was for the Assassin to simply stand there, considering, and then for the pale pink light around her to suddenly shatter, shards of light shooting through each of the Angelas that surrounded her, including the real one that was still supposed to be hidden.

Angela's eyes widened and she rolled out of the way, managing to avoid a direct blow as her cloaking spell and her illusions shattered. A shard of light pierced straight through her hat, knocking it off of her head and tearing it in half as it whizzed past her. Angela straightened up and looked over her shoulder, glancing at the pieces of her hat as they fluttered down to the ground.

She looked back up at the Assassin who continued to watch her impassively, her eyes narrowing as she straightened up and tightened her grip on Shelley's shaft.

"Alright," she said, pushing her hair out of her face. "No more Miss Nice Witch."

* * *

The crowd cheered as Rei and Ayame's opponent fell to the ground, Naigus stepping forward to call the match. Rei exhaled, lowering Ayame's ninjato form back to his side. The blade vanished in a flash of light, Ayame appearing beside him as, on the screens above his head, their names moved up the bracket into the next round.

"Aw, over already?" Ayame asked, raising her arms over her head in a languid stretch. "I was just getting warmed up."

"Don't show off," said Rei, placing a hand on her shoulder to guide her off the field before their opponent could regain consciousness. The next set of fighters waited in the wings, ready to step forward at Naigus's signal. "Come on, let's get out of here."

"Let's get some lunch," Ayame said, as they pushed their way through the crowd and walked back onto the open space of the concourse. "I'm starving."

"My parents said they'd be having lunch around here," said Rei, checking his phone. "We're invited…if you don't mind eating with them."

"I don't mind," said Ayame, with a grin. "Food is food. And I like your family."

"I'm sure they'll be glad to hear that," said Rei flatly, checking his phone one more time, before looking around. He caught sight of his parents sitting on a blanket that had been spread out on a grassy hill, his sisters sitting with them. He slipped his phone back into his pocket, grabbing Ayame's wrist to catch her attention and inclining his head towards it. She nodded, and he released her as the two of them walked up the hill towards them.

Maka smiled as they approached the blanket, already laying out lunch. She'd packed it in a multi-tiered bento box, so Rei helped her spread the layers out, slipping off his shoes and stepping onto the blanket.

"Good match," Soul said, nodding at him.

"Thanks," said Rei, sitting down.

Ayame plopped down onto the space beside him, grinning as Maka offered her a plate. "Thanks, sensei," she said.

"Oh, don't worry about it, Ayame-chan," said Maka. "After all, you're practically family." She said it with a smile that was almost too wide for Rei's liking, and Rei deliberately turned away from her, stuffing his mouth with rice and sausage. Across from him, Annie and Cori were sitting cross-legged on the blanket, each of them holding a particularly large caramel apple. He frowned at them.

"Aren't you two going to eat?" he asked.

"In a sec," said Cori, tilting her head as if she was trying to work out the logistics of actually _eating_ the thing. "Uncle Kid gave us these. They're going to get all sticky if we don't eat them."

Soul frowned, looking over at them. "I told you to call him 'Shinigami-sama'," he said.

"But Papa, _you_ don't," said Cori.

"And he said we could call him that…" Annie added, looking down uncertainly at her own apple. Rei winced. Shinigami had been almost _painfully_ formal with him when he was growing up, but just because his sisters were symmetrical scythe twins…

"I don't care what he said," said Soul. "If you're going to go to this school, you can't keep calling him 'Uncle Kid'."

"And you're _not_ eating dessert before lunch," said Maka. "You probably shouldn't be eating so much candy anyway. It's bad for your teeth."

"But my teeth are great!" said Cori, opening her mouth wide to show Maka. "Thee?" she asked, as best as she could with her mouth open. "Ah've even gotta new one comin'in."

"Let me see," said Maka, tilting Cori's chin up and frowning at her. She 'tsk'ed, tilting Cori's head slightly to the side to get a better angle. "That's not going to come in straight." She sighed, letting go of Cori's head. "It's alright. There's always braces."

"I don't need braces," Cori insisted, pulling her head away and rubbing her jaw. "I'm going to look just like Papa!"

"That's…not a good thing, dear," said Maka, piling rice and food onto a plate for Cori.

"Hey!" said Soul sharply, turning towards her.

"I'm gonna eat souls too," said Cori, oblivious to the fact that Maka had already turned away. She chomped her teeth together twice, a grin on her face. A look of consideration crossed over her expression, and she tilted the caramel apple to the side, considering its size. Cori opened her mouth wide, her lips hovering over the apple.

"Don't even _think_ about it, Corpore," Maka said without turning around.

Cori froze, dumbstruck. Rei took the caramel apples from both of them before either of them could get any ideas, laying them on a napkin and distributing their plates. Beside him, Ayame clapped her hands together, chopsticks between her fingers.

"Itadakimasu~" she said, digging in. Rei and the others followed suit, eating in silence for a few moments as they watched the ongoing tournament match.

"How's the contest going?" Soul asked as they ate, turning towards Maka.

Maka wiped at her mouth with a napkin, turning towards him. "Our booth is definitely more popular than Ox-kun's," she said, smiling. "Isn't that right, Cori?"

"Yep!" said Cori. "Although Mr. Ox is hosting a performance this afternoon, so he's saying he might get ahead."

"Performance?" asked Soul. "Who's performing?"

"One of the students, I think," said Cori. "His weapon's name is, um…Ham—Hamlin? He says he's a Demon Flute."

"We can put on a performance too, can't we, Rei?" asked Ayame, nudging him.

Rei almost choked. "No," he said. "No, we can't."

"Oh, come on," said Ayame. "I _know_ you play the guitar."

"Yeah, but not—not like, _well_ or anything."

"Rei, I've heard you play in your room," said Ayame, frowning at him in confusion. "You're pretty good."

"Rei's like Papa," said Cori, around a mouthful of rice. "They're weird about playing music. I'm not, but I'm not part of your class." She pouted at that, pushing the rice around in her bowl.

"No," said Maka. "You're not." She frowned in thought, tilting her head up to the sky. "I wonder if Rhythm and Rhyme will do it."

Ayame made a face. "Ugh, those two? They think they can rap, but they _can't._ Just let me at them, Maka-sensei. I'll blow their socks off."

"You do not want to let Ayame back on that stage," said Rei.

"Why not?" Ayame asked, placing a hand on her chest. "My people love me."

"Yeah," said Rei. "All ten members of your fan club."

"That's what I meant."

Rei shook his head, reaching forward and piling more food onto Ayame's plate. "Just eat," he said. "We have another match coming up soon."

"You're just jealous because I've got more stage presence than you," said Ayame, grinning at him. She ate anyway, though, picking up an entire piece of fish with her chopsticks and dangling it in the air before dropping it into her mouth.

"Yeah, sure, Ayame," said Rei, rolling his eyes. "That's exactly it."

He raised his bowl closer to his face, continuing to eat.

* * *

"Shelley!" Angela said, her voice sharp.

Shelley nodded in her soul space, closing her eyes. The wind around the spear began to pick up, Angela's own, distinctive Witch Soul pulsing as it took Shelley's Soul Wavelength into itself. Her eyes began to shine as she looked up at the Assassin, her grip tightening around the shaft. The wind packed in close around her as her soul swelled, two diagonal lines of stitches appearing across the top and bottom of her soul.

" _Soul Resonance,"_ Angela said, her voice low. The wind around her exploded outwards, forming the shapes of seven more spears, arrayed in the air around her, their blades angled towards the Assassin. _"Infinite Spear Strikes: Persecution."_

The spears shot forward, all seven of them converging on the silent figure of the Assassin. Angela followed directly behind them, the real spear's point arranged in the center of the other seven, a flower of steel and wind. The Assassin leaped back, her blades moving rapidly to deflect the blows as she fought to gain distance. She pushed off the ground and landed a few feet away as Angela's true spear point came through, landing lightly her feet.

Tears appeared in the fabric of her black cloak, her hood falling away from her face in two pieces and revealing a curtain of light blond hair. Angela didn't relent, pushing off the ground as she landed and letting the wind that surrounded her and her spear push herself towards the Assassin, the blades arrayed around her angling themselves for another assault.

This time, she raised the spear and swept it down in a diagonal arc, the spears around her reconfiguring themselves and sliding into the gaps in her offense, thrusting at the Assassin from above and below the spear's main path. The Assassin leaped back, the pink light that surrounded her shifting to form a pair of domed shields that caught the brunt of her assault.

The shield nearest Angela cracked under the force of the blow, shards of light skittering to the ground. Before Angela could exploit that weakness, the Assassin leaped back, bounding off of the fortress walls that surrounded them and appearing on top of the base wall, running for the main building's rooftop.

Angela threw her spear down, the wind bearing it aloft as it hovered an inch off the stone ground. She leaped onto it, crouching down and bracing her feet and one hand on the handle. The spear surged upward towards the Assassin, the wind spears keeping a tight, spinning wall around her as Angela closed the gap.

As she crested the top of the wall, the seven wind spears around her angled themselves downward, thrusting at the Assassin. Light flared as the Assassin tried to form a shield, the shield breaking under the force of the attack. A crack spread diagonally across the Assassin's mask and the light around her shattered, pale pink shards littering the air around Angela and Shelley as they surged in for the kill.

The Assassin moved quickly, recovering her balance and stepping inside Angela and Shelley's range. White light, not the light of the Magatama now, crackled down her arm, pooling in her fingertips as she thrust her hand at Angela's shoulder.

Angela's arm went numb, her hand releasing its hold on Shelley. She stumbled back, nearly falling from her perch on the spear's handle, and managed to keep her balance just barely, her other hand going up to grip at her shoulder. She stared at the Assassin with narrowed eyes as the other woman backed up, the lower half of her mask clattering to the ground. It revealed a youthful, pretty face, with clear gray eyes the color of steel.

Those eyes stared at Angela, completely empty, that face emotionless. She felt a shiver run through her as she studied the woman.

And then something beeped on the Assassin's wrist, pulsing with a red light. She glanced down at it, her expression never changing, her eyes still wide and a thousand miles away. Before Angela could stop her, she leaped over the side of the wall, the light of the Magatama flaring around her as she landed lightly on the ground beyond, disappearing into the shadows of the desert, toward the outline of two figures that waited just beyond the horizon, dark shapes against the rising crescent moon.

Angela stared after her, breathing hard, her fingers still closed around her numbed shoulder and her arm hanging uselessly at her side.

* * *

"Woohoo!" Ayame said as they walked in through the front door of the apartment later that evening, her arms spread wide. "Two-time tournament _champions_!" She spun around in excitement, collapsing onto the couch with a giggle.

Rei walked into the apartment after her, a frown on his face as he placed his keys in a bowl by the door. He still had an ache in his shoulder from where their last opponent had struck him—what was with empowered suits of armor and their tendency to make it to the finals anyway? "I don't understand how you can _still_ have so much energy," he said.

Ayame grinned at him from where she was sprawled on the couch, looking at him upside-down from over one of the armrests. "Because we are _awesome_."

"Sure, we are," said Rei, slipping off his jacket. He winced as the movement made his shoulder twinge with pain, sucking in a quick breath and rubbing at it with his other hand.

"Aww," said Ayame, sitting up and giving him a mocking pout. "Does the poor baby need some ice?"

"You were a sword the whole time, so I don't want to hear it," said Rei, shooting her a look as he bent down to pick up his jacket and hung it up.

"Yeah," said Ayame, flopping back against the couch with a smile. "But if I were a _shuriken,_ you wouldn't have gotten hit in the first place."

"Yeah, yeah," said Rei, waving the comment off with a dismissive hand as he dropped into the nearest armchair. "What does it matter, anyway? We won."

"Yeah, we did," Ayame said, still grinning at the memory. "And the booth went off without a hitch. So…" She turned over, folding her arms on top of the armrest and resting her head on them as she smiled at him. "…I think _you_ owe me a song now."

"Really?" Rei asked, brows raising. "Now?"

"Yes, now," said Ayame. "After all, didn't I just carry you to glorious victory?"

"Carry _me_?" Rei repeated, frowning at her. "I trained for a _year_ to be able to do that."

"Yeah, with _my_ guidance, Mr. 'I-need-to-be-dragged-out-of-bed-at-any-time-before-noon'," said Ayame, placing a hand on her chest for emphasis. She sat up, lowering her hand. "Come on, Rei. One song."

Rei met her eyes and tried to come up with a solid argument to _not_ play the guitar for her. It was surprisingly difficult, either because he was too tired to argue or because he already knew just how persuasive Ayame could be. He sighed, leaning back into his seat with resignation. "Fine," he said. "But I'm not getting out of this chair."

"One guitar fetched, coming right up!" said Ayame, bounding to her feet. She ran up the stairs, her footfalls surprisingly silent against the carpeted floors as she darted into his room. She returned a few moments later, carrying his guitar by the neck and handing it to him. Rei frowned at her as she arranged herself expectantly on the couch, placing the guitar on his lap and checking its tuning. It would do.

He didn't know what song to play, so he went with a song he had heard earlier that day, one that was still fresh in his mind. He didn't look up at her as he strummed through the opening bars, keeping his eyes firmly on the ground as he played.

" _Loving can hurt…Loving can hurt sometimes, but it's the only thing that I know. When it gets hard, you know it can get hard sometimes…it is the only thing that makes us feel alive…"_

He practically mumbled the lyrics into the air, refusing to look up at Ayame. A blush crept up his neck, spreading towards his face as he realized too late that he was singing a love song, but he kept on going because it would be weirder to stop and acknowledge it than it would be to just keep playing.

"… _We keep this love in a photograph_. _We made these memories for ourselves…"_

Hesitantly, he raised his eyes, looking over at Ayame. She was perched on the edge of the couch, watching him intently, a flush over her cheeks as well. He looked away, his heart racing, and tried to focus on the song.

"… _where our eyes are never closing, hearts are never broken, and time's forever frozen still…"_

Her mouth moved with the lyrics as he started on the chorus, but he didn't hear her voice. Rei took a deep breath and tried to focus on the song and not on the blush that was making its way across his face.

" _So you can keep me inside the pocket of your ripped jeans, holding me closer 'till our eyes meet. You won't ever be alone. Wait for me to come home…"_

The last notes of the song trailed off, fading into the silence of the apartment. He drew in a deep breath as he set the guitar aside and slowly, reluctantly, raised his eyes to meet Ayame's. She was still staring at him, an expression on her face that he didn't recognize.

"Uh, well…" she said. "…that was, um…" He watched as she cleared her throat and blinked slowly, seeming to come back to herself. A grin appeared on her face, but it didn't quite touch her eyes. "Rei, you sap. I didn't know you had it in you."

"You asked for a song," said Rei, his face still burning. He hoped she didn't notice. "See? This is why I don't play for people."

"No, it was great, it was great," said Ayame, waving her hands quickly. "It was just—uh—not what I expected. So—um, uh—." A panicked look appeared on her face for a second before her eyes widened and she jumped to her feet. "—Dinner? How about I get dinner together?"

"Dinner sounds great," said Rei. "There's—uh—in the fridge. Leftovers. You know, those."

"On it," said Ayame, clapping her hands together. "Just sit tight, Rei. Food, coming right up."

* * *

**Omake**

"Alright, and the votes are in," said Ox, tilting the ballot box over and letting pieces of paper spill out onto the tabletop. "Let's see whose class made the best karaoke booth."

He grabbed one at the same time as Maka did, the two of them unfolding them rapidly and sorting them into two piles.

"And the last count for my class," said Ox, "107…108…109!"

"And for mine," said Maka, frowning as she counted. "107…108…10…9?"

The two of them looked up at each other, confused looks on their faces as they looked back down at the piles.

"That can't be right," Ox said.

Maka nodded. "We can't be tied," she said. "Count them again?"

Ox nodded, the two of them going through the piles a second time. At the end of it, they both looked up.

"I have 109," Ox said. "You?"

"109," said Maka.

"That still can't be right," said Ox. "Again."

Maka nodded, the two of them sorting through the piles at breakneck speed.

A few feet away from them, Soul sighed, standing next to Harvar. "Think we should stop them?" he asked.

"No," said Harvar. "Just…let it go."

Soul watched Maka for a moment more before nodding. "Good plan."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs used or referenced in this chapter, in order of appearance:
> 
> 1) Senbonzakura by Hatsune Miku (Vocaloid)
> 
> 2) I Just Can't Wait to Be King from the Lion King Soundtrack
> 
> 3) Hakuna Matata, also from the Lion King Soundtrack
> 
> 4) Photograph by Ed Sheeran (just the first verse and chorus)
> 
> Since Rei is basically Soul with softer edges, Rei tends towards playing slow, sappy songs instead of dark songs like his father. He finds this embarrassing, which is why he doesn't like to play in front of people.
> 
> I used pretty much all of Erza's themes from the Fairy Tail OST while writing Angela's fights, but heavy on Against Magic, Scarlet Warrioress, Titania Dances, and Erza vs. Erza.


	20. Love, War, and Test Scores

* * *

**CHAPTER NINETEEN**

**Love, War, and Test Scores**

* * *

"Paralyzed," Shinigami repeated, frowning at Angela from over the other side of the mirror. "Is that how you'd describe it?"

"It felt like my arm went numb," said Angela. "I lost all the feeling in my fingers for an hour." She flexed her hand now, frowning at the tingling feeling that still radiated from her fingertips all the way up to her spine. "I'm still feeling it now."

It had been almost five hours since her and Shelley's confrontation with the Assassin. The base that they had defended had long since between swarmed by DWMA's intelligence agency, and the two of them had been whisked away to the relative safety and comfort of the main West Asia base. Now, she lounged on a low cushion in an empty corner of the base, her hand mirror in her free hand so that she could report back in.

"Shelley?" Shinigami asked, glancing off to the left where her partner was waiting, sitting on a similar cushion just within the shot. "Do you have anything to add?"

"It was definitely a wavelength attack," said Shelley, adjusting her glasses. "Similar to my father's, but with roughly the same amount of power compressed into a smaller area of effect."

"Would you say that this…Paralyzing Wavelength is likely how she killed the guards in East Asia?"

Angela turned the mirror towards Shelley in response, passing the question on to her. Stein had returned from his trip to Japan with findings that confirmed Azusa's initial report, except for one thing. The corpses had appeared uninjured internally and externally, aside from one minor detail that anyone else might have missed—a suspicious looking bruise on the back of some of the corpses' necks.

"It's possible," Shelley said, launching immediately into field medic mode. "The Assassin's wavelength seems to stop all neural activity in the affected area. A direct hit to the brain stem would almost certainly result in death."

"Thank you," said Shinigami, nodding gravely. "Anything else to report?"

Angela thought of the woman's empty eyes, the dispassionate way with which she had attacked them, apparently unconcerned with her own life and safety, and shivered. "Nothing important," she said. "Only that…she didn't seem entirely there. Like she wasn't aware of what she was doing. I don't—I don't think she's entirely sane. I'd call it madness except—."

Except there didn't seem to be anything there at all, no one behind the mask. Although that in itself could be considered a very specific, very particular kind of madness. Shinigami paused for a moment as he considered that.

"I'll…take that into account," he said, after the pause. "Good work, both of you. Stay there until you've rested, and then return to Death City. We can discuss your next assignment when you arrive."

"Shinigami-sama," said Shelley, "if I can make a request?"

Angela looked over at her, frowning in concern, but Shelley's eyes were fixed on the mirror. Shinigami turned towards her, brows rising.

"Yes?" he asked.

"The search for Micah Cole," Shelley said. "If you can spare us, I'd like to be assigned to that team."

Angela's mouth to argue, but she closed it quickly, instead watching her partner with some concern. Shelley wasn't looking at her, her eyes fixed on Shinigami-sama. Her expression was calm, but there was a fervent, almost fanatical need in her gold eyes as she waited for his response. They might be enemies now, but once upon a time, Shelley and Micah had been lovers, and Angela didn't like seeing what Micah's betrayal had done to her, didn't like seeing what it was doing to her now.

Shinigami seemed to be thinking along the same lines, because he watched her for a moment before looking away.

"I'll…consider it," he finally said. "Get some rest, and then come back to Death City. We can talk while you're here."

Before Shelley could say anything more, before she could open her mouth to argue, the line went dead, and Shinigami's face was replaced by their own.

* * *

Last year, Rei might have said that fighting in the Death Festival tournament was the most terrifying part of his school year. Since then, he had trained almost constantly, gaining the strength, skill, and, more importantly, confidence to be able to say that that simply wasn't true anymore. The tournament wasn't scary. It was only another fight, another series of fights, not that much different from one of his missions and, in all actuality, much less dangerous.

What _was_ terrifying was the specter that loomed on the horizon _after_ the tournament, the true terror of the DWMA school year.

The Ultimate Written Exam.

Rei flipped through his notes with an almost fevered intensity, sitting cross-legged in front of the sleek black coffee table in Vayne and Clark's living room. Morgan sat across from him with her legs folded neatly beneath her, paging through her own notes at a slower pace, but with the same single-minded intensity. Occasionally, Rei looked up to shoot her a glance, scowling as he noted the utter calm in her expression, the steady way with which her dark eyes moved over the page, her lips moving slowly as she read the words aloud to herself.

He flipped the page harder, paper crinkling loudly with the movement, and he thought he saw Morgan's eyes flip upward towards him, thought he saw her lips quirk up in a hint of smile before he turned back to her own reading. He liked Morgan and cared about her deeply as a friend, enough to keep her secret safe.

But she had gotten the top spot in the exam last year, and he'd be damned if he let it happen again.

To his left, Ayame flopped on her back on the couch, oblivious to their rivalry as she held her notebook high over her head and flipped through the pages, apparently unconcerned with the fact that the single most important exam of the year was in two days. But at least she was doing better than Clark, who wasn't studying at all, or than Cassie, who had excused herself from their study session an hour earlier and had left the room with a giggle and a grin on her face.

"I can't believe she's still with him," said Clark, turning the page on a section of his notes that he hadn't even read. "She's going to fail her exam."

Vayne frowned in annoyance, but didn't look up from where he was scribbling something down onto a pad of paper next to him. "Uh-huh. You should study."

"I _am_ studying," said Clark, scowling at Vayne before flipping the page again. He looked down at the words in silence for a few moments before looking back up. "She's going to the Anniversary Ball with him too!" he said. "As a _date_! It isn't even the kind of dance that you _bring_ dates to."

"Uh-huh."

" _I_ can't even get a date for the ball!" said Clark, sitting up and flipping the page with more fury.

Vayne dropped his pen. "Oh, will you _give it a rest already_?!" he asked, sitting up and running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I'm trying to study, Clark. We're _all_ trying to study. If you want a date to the ball so badly, freaking go out and _get one_!"

Clark stared at Vayne for a moment, his eyes wide. He blinked, comprehension slowly beginning to dawn on his face. His eyes lit up, his hand reaching from his phone. "Great idea, Vayne! I'll ask Rhythm! I don't think she hates me anymore. Maybe she'll go with me!"

Vayne's eyes widened. "Wait, Clark, that's not what I—!"

Clark ignored him, springing to his feet and running off to his room down the hall. The door closed on the rest of Vayne's sentence, the sound of its slamming echoing through the sparsely furnished apartment. Vayne stared after him, his hand extended, then slowly let it fall.

"Forget Cassie," Vayne muttered, looking back at his notes. "He's the one who's going to fail the exam."

"And get shot down," Ayame added, looking over at Vayne from her notes. "Majorly."

"Yeah, tell me something I don't know," said Vayne, running a hand over his face. "You don't even have to _bring_ dates to the Anniversary Ball. It's more of a partner thing."

"Jealous, Vaynie-poo?" Ayame asked, her eyes twinkling as she leaned her head over the edge of the seat and looked at him upside down.

Vayne threw an eraser at her. "Not on your life," he said. "I just don't want to deal with the fallout."

"Well, start stocking up on the RadAway, because the apocalypse is coming," said Ayame, looking back at her notes.

"Can you guys be quiet for a second?" Rei asked, looking up. "I'm trying to understand this part."

"Killjoy," Ayame muttered, although she shifted so that her head was resting on the seat of the couch again, turned away from Vayne.

"Want me to teach it to you, Rei?" Morgan asked, looking up at him with a glint in her eye and the tiniest hint of a smirk on her lips.

"No," said Rei. "No thank you. I've got it." He scowled, picking up his notes and shifting so that he was turned slightly away from her.

"Suit yourself," said Morgan, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She looked back at her own notes, continuing to read in that infuriating, sedate pace.

* * *

It was official. Vayne Damocles was going to murder his partner.

Just walk right up to him and 'oops, my arm slipped. Huh, that's funny. Haven't accidentally transformed in a _long_ time.' He had it all planned out in his head, including the way he would explain it to Shinigami-sama ('don't you remember what a cute kid I was? I would never do a thing like that'). He even had his back-up escape route planned out (cut straight through the city walls, head to Vegas, and join a circus), because as it turned out, being unable to study the day before the biggest exam of the year because Clark was too busy _monologuing_ about his inability to get one _single_ girl from their class to go to the dance with him gave Vayne a _lot_ of time to plot murder.

He was on the verge of either getting up and stabbing Clark with a pencil or breaking down and sending Morgan a text to 'please, please, please just go on a pity date with him and I will give you whatever you want' when a knock on the door cut Clark's tirade short, and gave Vayne a much-needed excuse to jump to his feet and get away from his partner before he murdered someone.

"What?" he asked, swinging the door open and looking straight at the very confused, slightly concerned mailman who waited behind it.

"Package…" the mailman said, holding a box out. "For, uh, Clark Greysteil?"

Of course it would be for him. Because hey, _Vayne's_ grades didn't matter, and _Vayne's_ lack of sleep didn't matter, as long as _Clark_ got to be the center of attention. Vayne scowled, grabbing the clipboard from the mailman and signing for the package before kicking the door shut behind him, walking back into the living room.

He swore, if Clark decided to say one more thing about how Rhyme didn't want to go to the dance with him or how Skye had called him an ass or how it was so unfair that Cassie had a boyfriend, this package was about to discover its hidden potential as a projectile.

Thankfully, Clark seemed to sense his partner's mood, because his eyes flicked to the package, and he wasn't looking at his phone at all. "What's that?" he asked.

"Package for you," Vayne said, frowning as he looked down at the return address. "From…your family."

He tossed it at Clark, but slightly gentler than he'd been planning to earlier, mollified somewhat by the sight of the return address. Clark was never in a good mood after hearing from his family. Vayne sat back down in front of his notes, hoping that he could snatch a few minutes of silence while Clark opened it, but he looked up, curious in spite of himself.

"What is it?" he asked, watching as Clark cut through the tape. "For your birthday?" Clark's birthday was a few weeks from now, not far.

"Looks like," Clark said, drawing out an envelope. His expression changed as he read it, and he cringed. "Oh, look," he said, flatly, "country club membership. That's great, except I live in the desert. And I don't golf. And even if I did golf…I live in _the desert_."

"Uh, well…it's a big box?" Vayne offered, scratching the back of his neck, his anger at Clark momentarily forgotten. "Maybe there's something else in it?"

Clark frowned, looking back into the box. "Socks," he said, making a face. "Argyle. Do I _look_ like the kind of guy who wears argyle? Don't answer that," he added, as Vayne started looking him up and down appraisingly. He set the socks aside and started rifling through the packing paper. "Please be money," he muttered under his breath. "Please be money, please be money…"

He turned the box upside down, but the only things that fell out were brown paper and what looked like a pair of striped pajamas. Clark grimaced, picking the pajamas up and setting them on the couch next to the socks. "You don't think the orphanage can use any of this stuff, do you?" he asked, sweeping the paper away.

"I don't know," said Vayne, pretending to give the presents a critical look. "We don't normally take in middle-aged white men."

Clark made a face, giving the presents another look. "What is _wrong_ with them?" he muttered under his breath, before picking up his phone again.

Vayne watched him, tempted to not say anything, but his eyes drifted towards the packages again and the question drifted out of his mouth. "You know, I've been meaning to ask. What's up with you and your family anyway?"

Clark went silent, slowly putting the phone back down. With his face turned away from Vayne, Vayne couldn't see his expression, but he could tell by the sudden slump in Clark's shoulders that he'd touched a nerve. He stood in silence, waiting for his partner to speak.

"Long…story," Clark finally said, looking up. "Come on. Help me get this stuff out of the way. We need to study for this test."

* * *

Ayame Star had a very specific, tried and tested routine for the night before major examinations or test. Step One, which usually happened sometime around ten, was to clean up her room and unroll her futon, so her notebooks ended up stuffed back into her book bag and all of the snack wrappers that she had accumulated during her three-hour long studying/anime watching/working out/video game playing session got thrown out to make room for her bed. Then she unrolled the futon, brought out her blanket and favorite star-shaped pillow, and laid them on top of the mattress.

That was it for Step One. 'Step Two: Get ready for bed' was the next step and the easiest, so Ayame slipped on a tank top and a pair of shorts, undid her hair from its side ponytail and brushed it out, then walked past the light that filtered up from downstairs (where her partner was still frantically studying), to brush her teeth. She hummed slightly to herself, taking her time in front of the bathroom mirror and frowning as she glanced at the steps that led down into the living room.

Ayame spat into the sink, rinsing her mouth out and dabbing at her face with a towel as she narrowed her eyes, preparing herself for Step Three, the most frustrating step of all.

Get Rei to go to sleep.

She set her toothbrush back into its holder, taking a deep breath, then strode purposefully down the stairs, her fists clenched and her jaw set in determination. This time, she didn't bother with niceties, just picked Rei up from where he was crouched over the coffee table, slinging him over her shoulder like a sack of rice as she made her way back up the stairs.

Rei thrashed in protest, a knee slamming into her shoulder as he made a frantic grab for the papers that floated in the air in front of his face.

"No, Ayame, wait!" he said. "I'm almost done—I just need to look at one more—!"

She ignored him, marching right back up the stairs and pushing open the door to Rei's room with her free hand. She heaved him off of her, dumping him unceremoniously onto the bed. Rei immediately scrambled up so that he was sitting, attempting to make a dash downstairs.

"No," Ayame said, cutting him off.

"But—," Rei began.

"No. Stay. Sleep," said Ayame. "That's final."

Rei blinked owlishly up at her and she turned around, turning off the lights and shutting the door behind her. She walked back to her room, hoping that that would be the end of it, but before she could fully close the door behind her, Rei was out the door and down the stairs like a rocket, heading for the pile of discarded notes.

Ayame let out a sigh of exasperation, rolling her eyes and giving her waiting futon one last longing look before making her way back downstairs.

"Come on, just five more minutes!" whined Rei a few minutes later as Ayame trudged back up the stairs, this time dragging him behind her by his ankles. Rei scrambled to keep his hands on the notes strewn across the floor in front of him, papers spilling from his grasp. "You don't understand! If I don't take the top spot this year, my family will be disappointed, and it's just going to be awful, and everyone's going to hate me, and—."

Ayame scowled, coming to a stop as she reached the hallway just outside of Rei's room. She reached down, picking him up by his collar and lifting his head slightly so that he was facing her. "Look, no one's going to hate you," she said. "It's just a test. If you don't know it by now, you're not going to know it in five minutes. So don't make me repeat myself. Go. To. Sleep."

Rei stared at her for long enough that Ayame wondered whether all that studying had actually fried his brain before he finally nodded slowly, blinking at her. "Alright, Ayame," he said. "I'll go to sleep."

"Finally," said Ayame, releasing him and stepping away. She waited just long enough to make sure that Rei was actually walking into his room, that the light was no longer shining from beneath the door, then turned back into her own bedroom and closed the door behind her. Ayame let out a sigh of relief, leaning against the wall for a moment, then smiled, walking towards her own futon.

She was just lifting the blanket to slide under it when she heard Rei's door open again.

Ayame let out a growl of frustration, heading back into the hallway. Rei's eyes widened as she stormed downstairs, dropping the stack of papers he was holding and raising his arms to cover his head. "I just wanted to check something, I swear—Ayame? Ayame!"

Ayame ignored him, grabbing him by the back of his shirt and dragging him back up the stairs. Desperate times, desperate measures.

She dragged Rei into her room and slammed the door shut, tossing him onto the futon. He sat there, momentarily stunned, while she flicked the lights off and got in on the other side, lying on her stomach and throwing an arm and leg over him so that he couldn't get away. Rei tensed, turning so red that he practically _glowed._

"A-Ayame—," he stammered out. "Wh-what are you—?"

"Making sure you sleep," Ayame mumbled into her sheets, turning her face away from him so that he couldn't see the redness starting to spread across her face as well. "You brought this on yourself, Rei. Now shut up and quit squirming, or I'll smother you with Mr. Starfish."

She held her gold star-shaped pillow up for emphasis with her free hand, lowering it back down to her other side. Rei was silent for a while before he spoke, as if he was trying to work out what he should say first.

" _Mr. Starfish_?!" he finally settled on.

"Shut up! I was five!" She twisted around, releasing her hold on him long enough to whap him over the top of the head with the star pillow. Rei cringed, closing his eyes and turning away. Ayame whirled around, pulling away from him entirely and scooting over to the other side of the futon, her back towards him as she hugged Mr. Starfish close to her chest.

"Just go to sleep," she said, mumbling into the pillow. Her face started to burn, with a heat that she could _feel,_ but as much as she was starting to regret this, Ayame had never been one to back down. She felt Rei shift, scooting over to the other side of the futon and widening the gap between them. "And don't even _think_ about getting up," she added. "I _will_ know."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," said Rei, turning onto his side so that their backs were facing each other. He exhaled, and despite all odds, she felt him finally, reluctantly start to relax. Which was fan-freaking-tastic, because now she was the one who wasn't sure she was going to be getting any sleep. "Good night, Ayame."

"Yeah," she replied, her tone clipped. "Night."

She waited until his breathing evened out before she finally let herself relax, hugging her pillow closer and settling into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

Rei woke up to sunlight in his eye, a knee in his back, an elbow in his face, and an incredibly annoying beeping sound coming from the next room. He opened his eyes, groaning, and shoved Ayame's arm and leg away from him unceremoniously, throwing the blanket off of himself. Ayame let out a grunt of annoyance, flopping back over onto her other side.

That was when he realized where he was. And then a second later, _what time it was_.

"Ayame!" Rei said, placing both hands on her arm to shake her awake. "We're going to be late for the exam!"

"…mpossible…" Ayame murmured, stretching out sleepily and pillowing her head on her arm. "…set an alarm…"

"Oh, yeah?" Rei asked, grabbing her alarm clock from its place on the floor and pushing it at her. "Explain this, then."

Ayame blinked blearily at it, pushing her head up. Then her eyes widened and she sat up.

"Crap!" she said, staring at him with wide eyes.

"I know!" said Rei, the two of them scrambling to their feet.

He ran out the door and into his room, taking a moment to shut off the frantic beeping of his alarm clock as he tried to find a suitable uniform to wear. From across the hall, he heard the sounds of Ayame moving quickly as well, drawers opening and slamming shut. He quickly pulled off his sleeping clothes, finding a shirt and pair of pants that he was 90% sure were clean and pulling them on. He ran his hands through his hair in an attempt to comb it and was just struggling with his tie when Ayame burst into his room, fully dressed now and with a panicked expression on her face. She grabbed him by the elbow.

"Never mind that, just grab it and go! We can still make it!"

"Cloak of Shadows?" Rei asked as he followed her out the door, grabbing his uniform jacket and slinging it over his arm as he tried to step into his shoes as quickly as possible.

"Gonna have to be," said Ayame, tugging on her boots. "Come on, hurry!"

"I can't believe you didn't set an alarm!" said Rei as he followed her out the door, pausing only a moment to make sure it was locked behind him.

"Yeah well, you know what, smartass, I had bigger things on my mind," said Ayame, scowling at him from the sidewalk and stamping her foot impatiently. "What are you waiting for? Get down here!"

Rei didn't waste breath arguing, leaping down the steps that led to the sidewalk and holding a hand out for her. She transformed, the familiar weight of the Cloak settling around him. Before he even had to tell her what to do, the kunai on either side of the cloak shot outward, sinking into the buildings on either side of the street and acting as a slingshot as they launched him up into the sky.

* * *

They made it just as the last bell was ringing, disheveled and out of breath. Rei dropped into his seat next to Vayne with an exhausted sigh, slumping down onto his folded arms. Beside him, Ayame exhaled, tilting her head back as she sprawled out onto her seat.

"Rough morning?" Vayne asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Just shut it," Rei said, slowly pushing himself up and rubbing at his eyes. If he stopped to think too long about the circumstances of their morning, and what Vayne would say if he found out exactly _where_ he had spent the night, he was going to get distracted. He couldn't _afford_ to get distracted, especially not with Morgan seated behind him and watching him with a smug look on her face, impeccably dressed and without a hair out of place. She already had her pencil out, tapping it lightly against her desk as Maka began distributing the exams and answer sheets.

Rei scowled at her, then pulled his own pencil out as well, taking a deep breath. He could do this. He'd been studying all week. He knew the answers.

He met Maka's eyes as she handed him his exam, his mother pausing to give him an encouraging smile before moving down the rows. It didn't help his mood any. He didn't want to think about what she would say if he failed this test.

Except it didn't matter, because he _would not_ fail. And he definitely wasn't going to lose to Morgan two years running. He exchanged looks with Vayne and Clark as each of them got their test papers, with Cassie, who had her headphones on and was humming to herself, all but ignoring Maka as she set the exam down in front of her, and finally with Ayame, who had her pencil up and was hunched down over her test, wearing an excited grin and a look of determination that she usually reserved for a challenging sparring partner.

All of them were ready. He turned to the front of the room as his mother came to a stop and faced them, tucking the extra exams and answer sheets beneath the crook of her arm.

"Remember," she said. "Absolutely _no_ cheating. I will know, and you're not going to like the consequences." She watched them sternly for a moment, making sure they understood, before her expression softened and she smiled. "If you've studied, I know you'll do fine. Good luck. Begin."

Rei took a deep breath, flipping his exam over.

* * *

Ayame didn't understand any of this.

Alright, so that wasn't fair. She understood the easy questions: "A sound soul dwells within a sound [blank]…' and the like. Those weren't too bad. It was rest of the exam that she seemed to be having a hard time with, although she could have sworn that she studied last night. Or maybe she'd taken a break to play video games. Yeah, in retrospect, that had probably been it.

Okay, that wasn't too much of a problem. Just because _she_ didn't know the answer, didn't mean Rei didn't. And Maka-sensei had said not to cheat, but Ayame was a _ninja_. As far as she understood it, the _point_ of getting an education at the DWMA was to become better at what you already were, and the best way for her to be a better ninja was to figure out how to outwit Maka's Soul Perception.

It was perfect reasoning. They should have made _her_ the teacher.

She smiled, glancing at Maka-sensei and making sure that the teacher had her eyes fixed somewhere else in the room before casually letting her eyes drift to the people sitting next to her, in this case Rei. Not at his paper, just at him. She could look at her partner, couldn't she? That wasn't against the rules.

Rei was writing furiously, scribbling out answers left and right. He was hunched over his exam like he was trying to beat it into submission, which sadly didn't give her a chance to glance at the answer. Behind him, Morgan continued writing at a steady pace, but she was sitting above Ayame, so the angle was all wrong. Cassie actually seemed to be _done_ and was goofing off with her test paper turned over and her eyes staring off into space. Clark and Vayne were too far away from her to see, and anyway, Clark was looking at his test with a look of despair that she recognized. Vayne looked pretty calm, but she couldn't get a good look at his test over Rei.

So there were no easy answers to be gleaned just by looking. At least none that she trusted. That was fine. She could improvise. After all, what was the point of her and Rei developing that whole secret language if it didn't allow the two of them to talk covertly?

Ayame shifted over to the left, nudging Rei's knee with hers. He jerked, sitting up, and in the half a second that he used to turn towards her, Ayame executed a quick movement with her hands, making it look like she was just fixing her hair.

 _Help me out with number 7?_ she signed. Or at least she tried to, but their hand signals weren't all that sophisticated, so it actually came out as more: _Help 7?_

Still not that hard to understand. She glanced at Rei out of the corner of her eye, expecting to see him trying to find a way to give her the answer. Instead, he just scowled at her, shifting his paper so that she couldn't see it and turning away.

Her mouth dropped open. She nudged him harder, forcing him to look back at her.

 _Help 7?_ she signed, angrier this time.

 _No,_ he signed back. He inclined his head towards Maka, then looked back at his work, as if to say _no cheating_.

Alright, fair enough. Maybe hand signals _would_ be too obvious. After all, Maka-sensei was Rei's mother—she would know something was off the minute he started acting up. No problem. She could work around it. She picked up her pencil, tapping out a rhythm on the corner of her page.

M-O-R-S-E-?

Rei frowned at her in annoyance, then tapped out a reply.

N-O

And then, as he turned away: S-H-O-U-L-D H-A-V-E S-T-U-D-I-E-D

Ayame bit her lip, then set her hands flying. The simple language that she and Rei had built wasn't designed to handle anything more sophisticated than a handful of words, but she made it work, filling in the gaps in her mind.

_I [am the] only reason [that] you [even got any] sleep last night, you [two-faced little bastar—_

"Ayame?" Maka asked, frowning up at her from the bottom of the classroom. "Is something wrong?"

Ayame's eyes widened and she snapped back up, turning to face Maka. "Oh, um…no, Maka-sensei," she said. "There's just a—a fly!" She clapped her hands above her, then a couple more times beside her head. "It's, um, kind of annoying, so I'm just trying to get rid of it and—."

Rei clapped his hands in front of her face.

"There," he said, going back to his work. "No more fly."

 _Traitor,_ Ayame signed. They didn't technically have a hand signal for that, but she made a rude gesture with a finger of one hand that she thought got the point across quite nicely. She scowled, looking back at her own work and angrily scribbling down an answer.

 _If I fail,_ she thought, glancing at her partner. _It will be totally your fault._

Rei, damn him, didn't seem to be at all concerned by that.

* * *

The bell rang throughout the school, finally signaling the end of the Ultimate Written Exam. Stein stood in the hallway as the doors to the E.A.T. classrooms opened, filling the halls with students. In one hand, he held the report that Angela and Shelley had submitted, based on their encounter with the Assassin. He adjusted his glasses, the light shining off of them as his eyes moved over the wavelength assessment again.

"Paralyzing Wavelength, hmm…?" he muttered to himself.

Stein looked up, watching the groups of students passing by, brightly colored souls flaring around him. His eyes landed on a boy following a group of five others out of Class Moonless Night's classroom. Blond hair, glasses, his own version of a wavelength attack.

Stein lowered the report as the boy passed, disappearing back down the hallway.

* * *

" _87?!_ " Clark asked, staring at the results board with a crestfallen expression on his face. "But—how? That's impossible! I studied so hard!"

Beside him, Vayne and Ayame looked at the results board, decidedly unamused. Vayne's own score had been a 63, Ayame's, 57.

"I hate him," Vayne said, his arms folded.

"I feel you," Ayame said, nodding solemnly. "Cass, what happened to you?"

She turned towards the girl standing next to her, who had had to shift over to the end of the board to find her name. Cassandra Crane had come out of that exam with a 24, a solid failure. That would have been surprising considering she had the sort of eidetic memory that let her remember everything she read, if not for the fact that she was Cassandra Crane.

"I didn't know there were three more pages," said Cassie with a flippant smile. "No big deal, right?"

"That's kind of a big deal!" Vayne said, as Cassie walked off and slipped her headphones back on.

"How bad is it?" Rei asked from his spot just over Ayame's shoulder, his eyes closed and his face turned away from the board. "Can I look?"

"Yeah, yeah, you can look," said Ayame, frowning at him in impatience. "Go on. It's not gonna bite."

Rei hesitantly removed his hand from over his eyes and looked up at the board. Then continued looking up as he searched for his name, and up and up and up…

1) Rei Evans – 99 points

His eyes widened. "I did it!" he said. "I got first place. Take that, Morgan!"

"Not so fast, genius," said Vayne, pointing at the board. "Take another look."

Rei frowned, giving the board a closer look. Now that he was no longer looking for his name, he noticed the name directly below his.

1) Rei Evans – 99 points

1) Morgan Fay – 99 points

Rei blinked. "We…tied?" he asked.

"Looks like," said Morgan, pulling herself away from her own study of the results board. She looked over at Rei, a smile on her face as she extended a hand out to him. "I can live with that. Can't you, Rei?"

"I…I guess I can," said Rei, reaching out and taking her hand. He returned the smile, their eyes meeting for a moment before each of them let go, their hands falling away from each other.

"Still," Morgan said. "I wonder what we got wrong."

"Me too," said Rei. "Do you want to go find out?"

Morgan gave the board another glance before nodding. "Sure," she said. "Maka-sensei should still be in the faculty office."

"Anyone else?" Rei asked, looking over the group as he and Morgan turned to leave.

"Nah, I'm good," said Ayame, looking at her score. "I mean, I guess it's pretty average, right? It's not too awful. Better than what my dad made when he was in school."

Rei frowned. "Wasn't your dad famous for failing _everything?"_

"Ex-actly!"

"I'll pass," said Vayne, when Rei glanced at him. "We're just going to get them back in a couple of days anyway."

"Suit yourself," said Rei with a shrug. "Clark?"

"No…" said Clark, still staring at his score and at his rank of 13th…out of 123. "My life is over anyway. I'm just going to go die…"

Rei frowned as Clark slunk away from the board, glancing at Vayne. "What's up with him?"

Vayne shrugged in response, watching as Clark walked away.

* * *

Clark sat on one of the benches that lined the school grounds, his phone in his hands. He sighed, scrolling through the list of messages there, every single one of them rejections. He'd been hoping to at least do well on the exam to make up for it, but now here he was, thirteenth in the class and still dateless. Why was he so hopeless? He flipped back through the list, wondering if he should just cave and ask Morgan. They were friends, so she might even say yes, but he didn't want to be a _pity date_.

What was wrong with him anyway? Was he just that unlikeable? No, he thought people liked him just fine. Everyone seemed to be alright hanging out with him. He was even class representative.

Oh God, was he ugly? He was ugly, wasn't it? That had to be it. Or maybe he smelled—

"…Clark?" asked a voice from in front of him. "Is something wrong?"

He looked up. A girl stood in front of him, with long blond hair reaching down to her waist and light green eyes. She was dressed in a school uniform, two thin braids reaching around the back of her head to keep her hair out of her face. He blinked at her, and then his eyes widened in recognition, flipping back through the list of names in his phone.

Ophelia! Of course! He had her number, except for some strange reason, probably because of her involvement in the haunted house last year, he had it saved as 'Stage Manager'. He opened his mouth, about to ask her to the dance, then quickly closed it, remembering the reactions he'd gotten from everyone else. He looked away.

"Uh—nothing," he said. "Everything's fine."

"Come on," said Ophelia, frowning at him. She crouched down so that the two of them were at eye level. "You can tell me."

"I—well—," he looked around, but her hulking giant of a partner was nowhere to be seen. "—You'll laugh."

Ophelia flashed him a smile. "Try me," she said.

"I—Ican'tgetadatetothedance," he blurted out, all the words coming out in a rush. Ophelia blinked at him, and Clark took a deep breath, continuing on. "I know it's not supposed to be important, but Cassie's got a date and I've asked literally every girl in the class except Morgan because it would be weird and Ayame because _come on,_ she's _definitely_ taken, and—and I guess I haven't asked you, but I'm not asking you, so don't worry, and I—you're laughing. I said you would."

"Sorry," said Ophelia, shaking her head and getting her giggles under control. She looked back at him, studying him with renewed interest through lashes that seemed entirely too long, and Clark felt the heat rise to his face. How had he not noticed that Ophelia was _beautiful?_

Oh, right. Yorick. Mr. 'I'll-grind-your-bones-to-make-my-bread'. He remembered now.

"So are you?" Ophelia asked after a while.

"Am I what?" Clark asked.

"Going to ask me to the dance?"

"Um—well—," He looked around, half-expecting Yorick to jump out at him from the shrubbery. "—Are—are you going to be mad?"

"No," said Ophelia.

"Is-Is Yorick going to pound me into paste?"

"Only if I tell him to," said Ophelia, smiling.

Clark stared at Ophelia for a long moment, considering, before finally taking a deep breath. He sniffed, trying not to make himself look so teary-eyed. "Then…will you go to the dance with me, Ophelia?"

"Hmm…" Ophelia frowned for a moment as if considering it, then turned back to him, "…okay."

Clark stared at her. "Just like that?" he asked.

"Yeah," said Ophelia, standing up. "Just like that. You know, you're pretty cute when you're not trying so hard to be cool, _iinchou_."

She threw him a smile over her shoulder as she turned, walking away.

* * *

**Omake**

"Alright," said Maka, rifling through the stack of exams in front of her. "Here's your exam, Morgan. And here's yours, Rei."

Rei took his exam from her, frowning at the look she gave him as she handed it over, then walked away to do other work. He didn't understand why his mother looked so confused about his score. After all, 99 was _great_ for the Ultimate Exam, and he had tied for first place with Morgan. He didn't think his mom would be so petty as to be disappointed in him because he had missed one point, would she?

The question bothered him, so he turned towards Morgan first.

"Which one did you get wrong?" he asked.

"Problem 79," Morgan said. "The one about resonance chains."

"Oh yeah, that one's complicated," said Rei, flipping through his exam. "I'm pretty sure I got that one wr—wait, no, I got it right? What did I get wrong, then?"

"Check the first page," Maka said, looking over her shoulder with that odd expression again. Rei frowned in thought, flipping back to the first page of the test. He glanced over it, at first not seeing any errors. Then he realized what he had done wrong, and his face paled.

_A sound [blank] dwells within a sound [blank] and a sound [blank]._

It was a multiple choice question, the easiest in the test. The right answer was: _a) soul; mind; body_. And his answer?

_b) spaceship; radio; squirrel_

He stared at his exam, and all the heat rose to his face. He must have circled the wrong answer somehow, but how—

"Problem?" Morgan asked, looking up over her own exam.

"N-No," said Rei, quickly lowering his own test before she could see. "N-No problem at all!"


	21. The Primrose Path; Night of the Anniversary

* * *

**CHAPTER TWENTY**

**The Primrose Path; Night of the Anniversary**

* * *

"Ayame, come on!" Rei said, raising his fist and knocking on Ayame's door. "We're going to be _late_!"

From the other side of the wooden door, Rei heard a series of thumps and crashes, like drawers and closet doors banging open and shut. "Ugh—one _second_!" Ayame yelled from the other side. "This dress is— _agh_!"

"You mean you're not even dressed?" asked Rei, glancing at his watch. "Ayame, we're supposed to meet the others in ten minutes!"

"Shut up! I can't breathe—ugh, this dress was made for a _boy_! A tall, skinny _boy_!" He heard the sound of rustling fabric, followed by another frustrated shout from Ayame. "Forget it!" she yelled, and then he heard the familiar ringing sound of Ayame shifting into a weapon form, followed by the sound of metal hitting the floor. A moment later, Ayame's door opened a crack, just wide enough to allow her to stick an arm out and throw a tangle of blue fabric at him. He caught it, realizing that it was a dress, one that was just a little too small in the—er—chest area to fit Ayame.

"Just give that to Clark! It's his color!" Ayame said, slamming the door again.

Rei held the dress at arm's length, frowning at it. He raised his fist, prepared to knock again, but Ayame opened the door before he could, wearing a scowl on her face and the same gold dress that she had worn to the Anniversary Ball last year.

"You could have just worn that from the _beginning_ ," Rei said.

Ayame shot him a glare, sweeping past him and into the hallway.

"Come on, let's go!" she said, as she walked down the stairs. "Weren't you worried about being late?"

Rei scowled, tossing the other dress back into Ayame's room and following her down the stairs. There were just some days when he knew that he was _never_ going to understand Ayame.

They met Morgan and Cassie on the street outside of Clark and Vayne's apartment, both girls wearing new dresses that, to Rei's eye, didn't look much different from the dresses they had worn last year. Morgan's was still dark purple, Cassie's some frilly thing in pale pink. The sight of them, however, did nothing to improve Ayame's mood. Rei stuffed his hands into the pockets of his suit jacket—the _same_ suit jacket that he had worn to last year's Ball, because really, why would he need more than one suit?—and followed along behind her as she approached them.

"Ayame dear, what happened to that nice blue dress you bought?" asked Cassie, frowning at her.

Rei shook his head and made very emphatic 'stop' gestures from behind Ayame's back, but Cassie, as usual, didn't seem to notice.

"Long story," Ayame snapped at her, turning towards Morgan. "Are Clark and Vayne coming to this thing or what?"

"We just got here ourselves," Morgan said, tucking a strand of lightly curled dark hair behind her ear. "You're welcome to go look if you want."

"Yeah, gladly," said Ayame, stalking up to the door with fists clenched. Rei watched her, half of him concerned about the structural integrity of Vayne and Clark's apartment, and the other half of him just impressed that she could even _do_ that much stalking in heels like that.

Thankfully for the apartment, Vayne and Clark had left the door unlocked. Ayame placed her hand on the doorknob and threw it open, taking a step into the apartment. "Alright, ladies! Stop doing your hair! It's time to go to the Ball!"

Vayne and Clark blinked at her from the middle of the room, where Vayne was helping Clark with his tie, holding it with both hands and adjusting the knot. Cassie looked over Ayame's shoulder with obvious interest. Morgan scowled, pushing her away. The color rose to Clark's face as the four of them crowded around the doorway, and he pulled his tie out of Vayne's hold, turning his back to his partner and fixing the rest of his suit by himself. Vayne rolled his eyes, hooking a thumb into the pocket of his vest.

"He's been preening all night," Vayne said in explanation. "He's all nervous about picking up Ophelia."

"I'm not!" said Clark, fumbling with the buttons of his suit jacket. "I'm just—just making sure I'm appropriately dressed! It isn't like—like this is my first date or anything!"

"Sure, buddy," said Vayne, placing a hand on Clark's shoulder with a long-suffering sigh. "Whatever you say."

"What time are you picking Ophelia up anyway?" Rei asked, glancing at the clock on the wall. "Because we're leaving _now_."

Clark's eyes widened, and he snapped them up towards the clock. "Oh no!" he said. "I'm running late! She's going to hate me!"

Vayne sighed. "She's not going to hate you, Clark. Just get going."

"I—right, flowers! Yes, I should get her flowers. Chocolates—we don't have any of those. Vayne—."

"Just go," said Vayne, placing a hand on Clark's back and shoving him out the door. Rei and the others quickly moved out of the way as Clark stumbled onto the stoop, looking back at Vayne with an uncertain look. "Trust me," Vayne said. "We'll see you there."

"I—yeah, okay!" said Clark. "See you there!"

Rei turned, watching as Clark jogged down the steps and up the street. Vayne watched as well, letting out another sigh as Clark disappeared from view. "And there he goes," he said. "Odds on him messing this up?"

"He couldn't mess it up if he tried," Ayame said. "Ophelia likes awkward."

"Good," said Vayne. "Because Clark's got a lot of it." He pulled the door closed behind him.

"I think it's kind of cute that he's picking her up," said Cassie, as Vayne locked up. "Ethan's just meeting me there."

"Yeah, well don't let Clark hear you say that," said Vayne, slipping his key into his pocket. He looked around at the others. "Shall we?"

They nodded, the five of them walking down the steps and making their way over to the DWMA.

* * *

Micah sat at a long table in the castle's great library, his cards fanned out in front of him facedown. He deliberated over them for a moment before selecting one, a smile on his face as he pushed it into place. The smile faded slightly as he remembered what today was—the anniversary of the DWMA's founding. The realization brought with it memories that he thought he had been able to repress—Shelley in a cream-colored dress back when they were students, still all arms and legs and big gold eyes, and Luna, turning heads even then, floating through the crowd of students as though she existed on a completely alternate plane.

The memories brought with them a pang of old pain, he couldn't think of Luna without thinking of darker times, and he quickly pushed the thoughts out of his mind, turning his attention back to the cards fanned in front of him.

"I'm not surprised to find you here wasting your time," said a voice from behind him. Mordred, Micah knew, without even having to look up. He extended his Soul Perception, realizing that Mordred wasn't alone. Their silent shadow stood next to him, dressed all in black as she usually was, her long blond hair forming a curtain around her face.

"Hello, Elaine," Micah said, not looking up.

Elaine didn't respond, but Micah didn't truly expect her to. Whatever madness that had taken her had already wiped out whatever was left of her personality long ago. He doubted sometimes that there was a shred of self-awareness still in there.

"I'm telling a fortune," he said, because Mordred was still looming over him, waiting for an answer. "Do you want to know what it says?"

"No," said Mordred, his tone laced with irritation. "What I _want_ to know is why you weren't downstairs, supervising the training session like you were supposed to. You're the one that recruited that mongrel to our cause. You should take responsibility."

"Grayson will be fine," said Micah, waving off Mordred's concerns as he pushed another card away from the pile, setting it beside the first one. A third followed, and he sat back, pleased with himself. "Are you sure you don't want to know? It's a special occasion, after all."

"I'm not interested," said Mordred.

Micah ignored him, flipping the first card over. "In the past, for our friends at the DWMA—," he said, sweeping his hand in a dramatic flourish before looking down at the card. "Ooh, Judgment. That's a nice one. It signifies a milestone in the development of the soul, walking through fire and being reborn."

"I'm aware of what it signifies," Mordred said in a stiff tone. "But that is not what we're discussing. We're discussing your utter lack of responsi—."

"Shh," said Micah, holding up a hand. "I'm not done. In the present, for our friends at the DWMA…" He flipped the second card over. "The Lovers! How sweet. Harmonious relationships and happiness all around. That's fantastic!"

"Micah—," said Mordred, a warning in his tone.

Micah ignored him, his hand hovering over the third card. "And for the future—."

"Micah," said a sharp voice from the doorway, interrupting him.

Micah jumped to his feet with a gracious smile, offering the woman in the doorway a deep bow. Mordred followed suit, still scowling at him. The only one who didn't bow was Elaine, who turned to watch the door with her usual blank expression. The woman in the doorway was garbed all in black, and although she didn't appear old, at least not at first, there was a certain ancientness about her that was obvious even without seeing her Witch's Soul.

"My lady Morrigan," Micah said, as polite as a courtier. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Flattery will get you nowhere," said the Morrigan, but the corner of her lip quirked up in a smile as she passed dark eyes over him. The smile vanished as soon as it had come, and her expression was stern again. "I seem to recall that you failed in your initial mission."

"With all due respect, my lady, I didn't fail," Micah said, still bowing. "There were extenuating circumstances…"

"Yes," the Morrigan said, interrupting him. "You'll find that I am quite aware of those…circumstances. Today is an important day for the DWMA, is it not?"

"It's the anniversary of their founding," said Micah. "The school will be hosting its annual ball."

"And we weren't invited," said the Morrigan, resting a pair of black nails against her cheek. "How rude of them. I think it's time for another attack. I'm going to give your original mission a second chance, Micah."

"I'm honored—," Micah began.

"Ah," the Morrigan said, interrupting him. "But I didn't say _you_ would be the one to carry it out." She nodded at Elaine. "Do not fail me."

Elaine said nothing in reply, only turned and brushed past the Morrigan, leaving the room. The Morrigan watched them for a moment more before turning to follow her, the library doors swinging shut behind her.

Mordred straightened up, shooting Micah a glare. Micah smirked at him as he rose from his bow, slouching against the table behind him.

"This conversation isn't over," Mordred said, before turning to follow his mother out of the room.

"Whatever you say," said Micah, waiting until Mordred was gone. Once he was alone in the room, he turned back towards the cards on the table. It wasn't as much fun without Mordred around, but that didn't mean he didn't want to know.

"And for the DWMA's future…" he muttered to himself, flipping the third card over.

Micah stared at it for a few long moments. Then, he smiled, a thin, rueful smile that hovered just on the edge of madness. He turned, walking away from the cards on the table.

Death stared up at him from the tabletop, sightless eyes following him even as he left the room.

* * *

The DWMA had been transformed for the Anniversary Ball, the entrance hall glowing with bright lights and humming with music and conversation. As they walked up the steps, Cassie peeled away from the group, making her way towards Ethan, who was watching her by the doorway, dressed in a dark-colored suit. Morgan watched her go with a slight roll of her eyes, trailing behind Ayame as she led the way into the hall.

Rei followed along behind her as well, quietly miserable. For some people, the Anniversary Ball might have been the highlight of the year, but given the choice, Rei almost thought that he would rather fight in the tournament again. He was around people that he knew, around the same people that he trained with and fought with and took classes with, but he almost didn't recognize them in their suits and brightly colored gowns, didn't know how to act.

Ayame, on the other hand, had brightened up almost as soon as they stepped through the doors, a grin on her face. The lamplight shone against the gold fabric of her dress, a knee-length cocktail dress with the fabric bunched up around her waist, forming a flower pattern just over her right hip. She had taken her hair out of its usual side ponytail and had done the left side of it up in a stupidly elaborate braid that Rei couldn't imagine was comfortable. She wore a pair of heels high enough that he had no idea _how_ she was walking in them, and had even managed to put make-up on somehow, a touch of gold over her eyes playing against the natural tan of her skin.

She should have looked ridiculous, should have looked so different from the Ayame he knew that he wouldn't want to look at her, but instead she looked so very _herself_ , so very in her element that he found that he couldn't look away, that his eyes kept getting drawn towards her, sending heat to his face and an awkward flutter to his stomach. He clenched his fists tightly, stubbornly looking anywhere but at her and the light in her eyes as they drew to a stop in the center of the room.

"Well," Vayne said, "Here we are."

Rei forced himself to lift his eyes, forced himself to look around the room, to take note of where they were and of the people there, all while avoiding even looking at Ayame. The room was crowded with DWMA's elite, teachers and administrative staff and any meister or weapon actively working for the DWMA within a hundred-mile radius. He caught sight of his parents standing across the room, his dad looking as uncomfortable as he was, of Shinigami standing in a white suit on a raised platform, clearing his throat as he prepared to give a speech. Stein and Marie were already on the dance floor, Shelley sat at a table nearby, sipping at a glass of wine as she watched them. He saw Ethan and Cassie laughing with each other near the food table, saw Clark and Ophelia on the opposite side of the room, Ophelia dressed in white and smiling at something Clark said as Clark floundered, seeming unable to know what to do with his hands.

He saw dozens of people that he knew, all working in some way or another to learn, to keep the world safe, and he felt himself relaxing somewhat, the tight knot that he had been carrying around without knowing it loosening slightly. It was just the DWMA after all. What had he even been nervous for?

"Yeah," he said, looking back at Vayne.

"Well, I'm not hungry yet," said Vayne, giving the food table an appreciative look before turning towards Morgan. He held a hand out towards her with a joking smile, characteristically unselfconscious. "Shall we dance?"

Morgan turned her head to hide her smile, shrugging her shoulders in an overly exaggerated 'if I must' kind of way before placing her hand lightly in his. Vayne grinned, leading her off to the center of the room and Morgan followed, gathering up her skirt off the floor in that prim and proper way of hers as they found an empty spot.

Rei watched them for a while before looking at Ayame out of the corner of his eye. She was smiling, and his gaze dropped to her lips for an instant before he hastily pulled it back, looking away.

"You don't think…" he began, noticing that her eyes were fixed on Vayne and Morgan.

Ayame held up a hand, cutting him off before he could finish that sentence. "Too soon to say," she said, before walking off to the food table. "I'm starved. What do we have to eat?"

* * *

Rei settled back against the wall with a sigh a little white later, carrying a plate of food with him. He picked at it, watching the dancers. Ayame had matched him plate for plate before guzzling down a goblet of sparkling (non-alcoholic) cider, slamming it down onto the tabletop like she was at a tavern in a fantasy novel, and (loudly) declaring her intention to dance. She had peeled Clark away from Ophelia for a second, and Rei watched them as they twirled across the dance floor, trying to tell himself that the coiling feeling in his gut was not jealously.

Probably just something he ate, like a piece of bad shrimp.

"Had enough?" asked a voice from beside him.

Rei glanced over and realized that the corner he had chosen to hide in hadn't been as empty as he'd thought. His dad leaned back against the wall, one hand in the pocket of his suit jacket. He was watching the dancers and had a plate of food as well, although his was decidedly emptier.

"Just taking a break," Rei said, looking back at the dancers. His stomach churned again and he grimaced as he regarded his plate of food, holding it out to his father. "Salmon?"

Soul picked up a piece of fish with his fingers, popping it into his mouth. Rei watched Ayame and Clark for a moment more before handing the plate of food to his dad entirely, stuffing his hands into his pockets and leaning against the wall. The song that the musicians were playing built up to a crescendo, and Clark and Ayame spun together breathlessly at the end of the dance, coming apart as the last notes faded into the air. They faced each other, both out of breath and smiling, and Clark dropped into an overly dramatic bow at the same time as Ayame curtsied, the two of them managing to make it look rehearsed as they walked back into the ring of onlookers that surrounded the dancefloor.

Applause rang out from the crowd—the two of them had drawn an audience. Rei watched bitterly as Ophelia slid an arm around Clark's back and pulled him back onto the dancefloor, an appraising look in her eye as she studied him. Ayame made her way back out of the crowd towards him, out of breath, slightly disheveled, and grinning.

"Whew," she said, collapsing onto the wall beside him with her hands clasped behind her back. "That was kind of a workout."

"You looked like you had fun," Rei said, still not looking at her.

"I did," Ayame said. "But I started wondering where my idiot of a partner went." She peeled away from the wall and turned to face him, blinking big violet eyes up at him. He made the mistake of meeting her gaze and now he stared at her, suddenly finding that he couldn't look away.

"Dance with me?" she asked.

His mouth went dry, his mind conjuring up a thousand different ways to tell her that he couldn't dance, that there was just no way—

"A-Ayame—," he said, but was cut off as a hand landed on his shoulder, pushing him firmly towards Ayame. His eyes widened in betrayal, and he looked over his shoulder at his father.

Soul was grinning.

"This is my corner," he said. "Go on. Shoo."

"Thanks, Mr. E," said Ayame, with a nod, taking his wrists in her hands as he tried to pull away. He wanted to break free, but to free himself, he would have to _look at her_. So instead he gulped, his heart pounding out an increasingly panicked rhythm as Ayame dragged him onto the dance floor.

* * *

Soul leaned back against the wall as Rei left, still holding Rei's discarded plate of food. He shook his head, a smile on his face as he popped another piece of salmon into his mouth, watching as Ayame dragged Rei to a stop, as Rei blinked like a deer in the headlights, his hands flailing until Ayame caught one and placed it firmly on her waist. He relaxed against the wall, picking up another piece of food.

He almost felt sorry for Rei. Almost.

"Oh, Soul…" called Maka, from somewhere off to his left.

_Crap,_ he thought, dropping the piece of food he had been eating.

* * *

Ophelia giggled breathlessly as the two of them stumbled off the dance floor, leaning on his arm to support herself as she tried to peel off her broken shoe. The heel had snapped mid-turn, and Clark had had to catch her as she fell, holding her up with both hands as they tried to maneuver their way off the floor without running into any of the other dancers.

"I guess this is a sign," Ophelia said, smiling at him as she stepped out of her other shoe, suddenly losing a few inches of height. She picked up both shoes by the straps, dangling them between two fingers and apparently heedless of her bare feet as she straightened up again. "I'm sorry I'm not much of a dancer."

Clark shook his head. "You were doing fine," he said, not sure what she was talking about. "You were great actually. You, uh—." He drew to a stop and glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, realizing that he was rambling again.

Thankfully, Ophelia didn't seem to notice. "Not as good as you," she said, giving him a playful smile. "I didn't know you could dance like that, _iinchou."_

Clark frowned, his annoyance at the nickname momentarily cutting through his embarrassment. "Okay, you can stop with the ' _iinchou'_ thing," he said.

"Why?" asked Ophelia, smiling in a way that told him she knew exactly how much he hated that nickname. "I like it. It suits you, _iinchou."_

"If you keep doing that," Clark warned her, the corner of his lip quirking up in a matching smile. "I'm going to call you 'stage manager' for the rest of the night."

"Fine by me," said Ophelia, grinning at him. "The rest of the night isn't going to be very long, I'm afraid. It's been a lot of fun, but I feel like _these_ are my cue to make a graceful exit." She held her shoes up for emphasis, the heel dangling off of one of them. Clark glanced at the exit, listening to the sounds of the party still going on around them. He didn't want her to leave, he realized. He didn't want this night to end.

The words left his mouth before he could think about them, before he could even be properly embarrassed. "I'll walk with you."

Ophelia didn't insult him, didn't make a joke, didn't brush him off and turn to run away the same way some of the other girls in the class might have. Instead she just smiled and offered him her arm, the two of them leaving the party together. It wasn't until he had stepped through the doors and was helping Ophelia negotiate the DWMA's steps barefoot that he realized he had no idea what Cassie was doing, that he hadn't even turned to look for her as he left the room.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Clark asked, as they walked slowly down the street away from the school. "We could call a cab—."

"I'm fine," said Ophelia with a smile, waving off his concern. "It's just a little bit of dirt. I'm a meister. I'll live."

"I—I guess," said Clark, falling silent. He felt some of the awkwardness that had been his constant companion all evening return. He wanted to do something for her, but he didn't know what, and his hands closed and unclosed uselessly at his side. Ophelia seemed to take pity on him, because she smiled at him, continuing to speak.

"My parents used to do Shakespeare in the park," she said. "You want to talk about dirt, imagine me and Yorick playing in the mud all showing because it was raining that day."

"You and Yorick?" Clark asked, glancing at her. Up until now, she hadn't mentioned her partner. He had avoided asking, mostly because he didn't know what he was going to say. He realized that part of the reason he had never asked Ophelia out was the same reason why he didn't bother with Ayame—he'd assumed things about her relationship with her partner that were, in Ophelia's case anyway, probably not true.

At least he assumed so, because Yorick had been at the party and despite glowering at him once or twice, hadn't actively tried to beat him up.

Ophelia smiled as if she knew the path his thoughts were taking, glancing at him. "We grew up together," she said. "Our parents were part of the same performance group. We were theater people. His mom did the costumes. My dad designed the sets. My mom got the big roles. She's a great actress. We were inseparable as kids, so it didn't really surprise anyone that we both ended up at the DWMA together."

"But you're not…" Clark began.

Ophelia laughed, shaking her head. "He's like a big brother."

Something inside Clark loosened up in relief. "Oh," he said, his voice soft.

Ophelia didn't miss his sudden change in expression. "Why?" she asked, looking at him from beneath thick lashes with a look that made his heart stop. "Were you worried?"

Clark froze. "Um—m-maybe," he said.

She tossed her hair out of her face with a shake of her head, still smiling as she walked forward, almost leaving him behind. He hurried to catch up with her. "You're interesting, Clark," she said. "One minute, you're asking out every girl in the class without an ounce of shame, the next you're all tongue-tied. Why's that?"

"I—I don't know," said Clark, feeling the heat rise to his face. His tie suddenly felt uncomfortably tight. Ophelia went on distractedly, as if she hadn't noticed that he had spoken at all.

"It's like…you're putting on a performance," she said. "Like the person that tries to talk to all those girls isn't you, it's…a character you're playing. Believe me, I grew up around actors. I would know. I think the only times I've seen you truly relaxed tonight where when you were dancing with Ayame and when you snapped at me for calling you _iinchou_." She looked up at him, concern in her eyes as she looked over his face. "Why?"

Clark frowned, saying nothing. His eyes slid away from her, focusing on the road ahead. He didn't know what to say. He couldn't deny what she was saying, but that didn't mean that he had an answer for her either. The answer drifted somewhere at the back of his mind, but he ignored it, knowing that it if he thought of it for too long, it would start to hurt. Instead he said, "Does it matter?"

"Well…" Ophelia said, pausing to consider it for a moment. "Let's just say I like _this_ Clark better."

She stopped and he followed suit, turning to face her. They had reached an intersection, one that he was familiar with. His and Vayne's apartment was a couple of blocks to the right, hers was further up the road. A streetlight illuminated the two of them, lamplight playing with the burnished gold of her hair and the white fabric of her dress. The setting brought to mind another street, another parting, and Clark felt something tighten in his chest.

She took a step back and he realized that she meant to go. "I'll walk you home," he said, the words coming out in a rush, desperately, as if he could stop her from leaving by saying them, as if he could stop himself from remembering that other parting, that other time so long ago.

Ophelia shook her head, and as if she realized that he wasn't truly seeing her, took a step so that she was just out of reach. "It's not far," she said. "I'll be alright."

And then, surprising him, she stepped forward, her lips brushing against his cheek. "I had a good time, _iinchou_ ," she said, her eyes meeting his, hovering in front of him, impossibly close. "We should do this again."

Before he could respond, before he could even collect his wits enough to move, she was walking away, tossing him a smile over her shoulder before walking off into the distance, her shoes still slung in one hand. His cheek burned where she had kissed him. He raised his hand to his face, tracing the outline of her lips.

* * *

Clark, Ophelia decided, was an interesting person, but not nearly as bad as Rhythm or the other girls made him out to be. All things considered, she thought she might keep him. The thought made her giggle, and she raised her hand up to her face, walking down the sidewalk with her shoes in hand and a lightness in her step.

Yes, she thought, he was _definitely_ interesting.

She wondered when he would invite her out again, or if she would have to be the one to do it.

Something moved out of the corner of her eye, giving her pause. Ophelia drew to a stop on the street, glancing at the shadows around her. Her eyes narrowed as a figure slid down from a rooftop ahead of her, dropping onto the sidewalk, and she quickly put all thoughts of Clark and the ball from her mind, spreading her legs and sinking into a stance.

The figure was dressed all in black, golden hair spilling from her head and shining in the moonlight. She wore a mask over her face, half in white and half in black. Ophelia didn't have Soul Perception, but she didn't need it to know that this woman was dangerous. She exuded danger, the same way a predator might, or a force of nature.

Her eyes darted to the left and right, counting out avenues of escape. Without Yorick, she didn't much like her chances, but that didn't mean she planned on going out without a fight. The woman across from her extended her hand, electricity crackling down her arm and stopping at her fingertips.

Ophelia slowly opened her hand, her shoes clattering to the ground.

* * *

The wineglass fell to the ground and shattered, drawing a stop to the conversation at the anniversary ball and forming a steady pool of red that spread over the floor. People gasped, stepping away from it, and Soul quickly grabbed Maka's elbow, pushing her gently but firmly away from the spill.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice low as he looked into her eyes. Maka shivered beneath his touch, something cold and _wrong_ settling into the pit of her stomach. She turned towards him, leaning into him and Soul's eyes widened in alarm. "Oi," he said, placing his hand on her shoulder and shaking lightly. "Maka…"

"Something's wrong," Maka said.

"What—?" Soul began.

Maka shook her head, coming back to her senses. She straightened up, her eyes narrowing as she looked over at the party. Aside from the group of startled people around her, most of whom were watching her with some concern, the ball went on as usual. Students laughed, people danced, the music played, and it was all wrong.

Her eyes flitted over the students, counting them even though she knew it was hopeless. She wouldn't miss one or two, not in a crowd of so many. She saw Rei and Ayame, Vayne and Morgan, Cassie and her boyfriend from Class Crescent Moon. All of the students from her class, one after another. She couldn't find Clark, and she couldn't find Ophelia.

She stretched out her Soul Perception again, looking beyond this, beyond the group of people gathered around her, beyond all their brightly lit souls and the energy coming off of them in waves, expanding her search radius to take in the whole city. Her expression grew grim, her hands clenching into fists at her side as she grit her teeth.

"Maka?" Soul asked again. He took a step away from her, waiting.

"Transform," she said, extending out a hand towards him.

 


	22. The Maiden in the Water

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE**

**The Maiden in the Water**

* * *

Death City's water tower stood on the edge of town, standing sentinel over the city. Maka floated up towards it with a grim expression on her face, still dressed in her gown from the party earlier that night. She stood balanced carefully on Soul's scythe form, the wings formed by her Grigori Soul extending out past the blade as the two of them floated up towards the reservoir.

" _This is where you lost her?"_ Soul asked, looking up at Maka.

Maka nodded, but didn't say anything more. She placed her hand over the earpiece in her ear, aware that Stein and Marie were close behind, and waited until they had reached the level of the platform on top of the tower. Soul hovered there while she stepped lightly onto the platform, then transformed back into human form in a flash of light, standing next to her.

She didn't say anything to him, still fighting the tight knot of dread and anger that sat tangled together in her chest as she stepped towards the door that led into the reservoir, open even though it was always closed during the off-hours. The sight of it brought with it a sort of final certainty that Maka had been hoping not to feel, and she walked towards it, her hand closed tight over her heart.

It was deathly quiet inside the reservoir. A pool of water sat in the darkened chamber, just a foot or so below the catwalk that the door opened onto. In that water, just on the surface, floated a girl.

Her eyes were closed, as if she were only sleeping. She was dressed all in white, golden hair streaming out behind her in the water, her arms and legs hanging limp below the surface.

Maka couldn't sense her soul.

She stepped forward and placed her hands on the railing, squeezing tightly. The metal was cool, biting into her palms. She grit her teeth, then loosened her grip, exhaling slowly.

Soul moved to her side.

"Maka?" he asked, his voice soft.

She breathed deep, her eyes on the girl floating in the water below her, on Ophelia. Maka tore her eyes away from the sight, turning towards Soul. "Call for reinforcements," she said, her voice hushed. It still echoed in the quiet inside the reservoir, a susurration that rebounded off the walls and washed back over her.

It was because of the quiet that she heard the clanging sound that followed, a sound like something landing lightly on the tower's roof. Her eyes narrowed and she cast her Soul Perception outward, her hand extended towards her partner.

"Soul!" she said.

Soul nodded, transforming in a flash of light. She felt the familiar weight of him beginning to settle into her palm and didn't wait until he had transformed fully, closing her fingers around him and dashing back out into the night air. She caught sight of a flash of black leaping from the water tower's rooftop, a swath of pink light forming beneath her to catch her in the air. Maka braced herself on Soul's handle, leaping onto it just as it finished forming, wings bursting into existence on either side of the blade as the two of them shot off after the Assassin.

Tears stung her eyes, but she clenched her fists, turning them into anger as she closed in on the Assassin's position. She let out a shout of rage, leaping off Soul the second the two of them were above the Assassin and grasping the scythe in both hands as she fell, slashing at the Assassin's head.

The Assassin shifted her weight to the side, the flat plane of pink light that she was standing on banking to the left like a hoverboard as Soul's scythe blade came slicing down. She raised her other hand, light pooling just over her wrist and forming a shield. The blade struck the light with a loud clang, the shock of impact reverberating through Soul's handle and pushing them back.

Maka tightened her grip on the scythe as they began to fall, shifting her weight so that her feet rested lightly in the space where the blade met the handle. She pushed with her wavelength, and Soul responded without either of them having to exchange a word, the wings on either side of her flaring into greater brightness and propelling them into the air with a sudden burst of speed.

They clashed with the Assassin again as they zipped over the skyline of Death City, the moon shining light down on them with its grinning leer. This time, the Assassin was the one knocked back by the blow, nearly losing her footing on her shield of light as she teetered precariously over the streets. Maka didn't let up, moving in for the kill, and the Assassin retaliated, light flaring around the other woman as she rose up to meet Maka.

Electricity crackled around Maka as the light moved to encompass her, and her eyes widened as she felt the Assassin's wavelength start to well up within her, a vein of light extending from her soul to pool at the tips of her fingers.

" _Maka!"_ Soul shouted, but Maka didn't need the warning. She pulled back and away as the Assassin's hand thrust through the air, stabbing through the space where Maka's head had been a moment prior.

The Assassin didn't turn to chase her, instead sinking down and putting on more speed as she made for the desert, shooting away from the city. Maka hung back for a moment, feeling out the lingering traces of wavelength in the air.

"Soul, that wavelength…" she began.

" _Yeah."_ In his soul space, Soul was already moving, adjusting the cuffs of his pinstripe suit as he stood in front of the piano. _"I know."_

The wings on either side of her flapped gently, pushing her up higher in the sky and allowing her to see the Assassin, a bright streak against the horizon. Maka took only a moment to map out her trajectory, then placed both hands on the scythe handle, putting on a sudden burst of speed. She let out another shout of fury, tightening her grip on Soul's handle as she closed in on the Assassin.

The Assassin turned to meet her, and Maka saw a glimpse of gray eyes from behind the mask, dull and empty. In her Soul Perception, she saw the Assassin's soul flare again, that light pooling in her fingertips as she held up her hand, her fingers pointed at Maka's heart.

"Soul!" Maka said. "Now!"

Soul slammed his hands down onto the keys as she attacked, shouting with her. A single pure chord sounded from the piano, resonating through the link between them and pouring out into the world. The sound rang out around Maka, high and clear, and in the instant before the Assassin's hands touched her chest the light shattered, shards of white tinkling through the air between them.

Something woke up behind the Assassin's eyes, shock penetrating the fog that surrounded her in the instant before Soul's blade came down, slicing her open from shoulder to waist. Blood spattered against the desert floor, reflecting dully in the moonlight as the blow forced the Assassin back, resting limply on the plane of light beneath her. Maka loosened her grip on the handle by a fraction.

Then the light flared up around the Assassin again, pink light seeping into her wound and knitting flesh and sinew together, a line of light shining in the space where Soul's blade had cut as the Assassin raised her head.

She looked up at Soul and Maka from behind her mask, a look of bewilderment in her eyes before she put on a sudden burst of speed, disappearing into the night.

* * *

The water tower had been cordoned off in the aftermath, bright yellow tape with 'KEEP OUT' written on it in black letters crisscrossing over the area. Mifune stood at one end of the roped off area, looking out at the street with a grim expression on his face. His hands rested on the hilt of one of his swords, the point buried in the earth at his feet. Behind him, a tight knot of DWMA officials and medical staff huddled around Stein and Shelley, who were laying the girl down on a sheet between them. Mifune watched them out of the corner of his eye, then turned his attention back onto the street. The presence of the medical staff here was an afterthought. There was nothing more that could be done for the girl.

He watched as a pair of figures made their way up the road, one of them with red hair that had already mostly gone gray, the other young, blond, and wide-eyed. Mifune locked eyes with Spirit Albarn as the pair neared the taped-off barrier, the Death Scythe's expression equally grim. He had a hand on the boy's arm, not rough but firm enough that Clark wouldn't be able to get away.

He didn't seem to want to. He moved as if in a dream, his face frozen in an expression of fear.

"I've brought him," Spirit said, as if that wasn't immediately obvious. Mifune's eyes drifted from the Death Scythe to Clark.

"You're not doing him a kindness bringing him here," he said.

"He wanted to come," Spirit said.

The words seemed to jolt Clark out of whatever fugue state he was stuck in, because he looked up, looking around frantically as if he was still desperately waiting for things to start making sense.

"Oph—Ophelia—," he said. "Spi—Mr. Albarn said that she was—It's not true, isn't it? She—she's okay?"

Mifune didn't respond, instead lifting his sword out of the earth a fraction and tapping on the ground. The tape that barred their path pulled back, giving them enough space to pass through.

"Come on," said Spirit, nudging Clark gently but firmly through the makeshift doorway. The tape whizzed back into place once they were through, closing off the area. Mifune watched out of the corner of his eye as the pair of them took two steps, and then stopped as Clark took in the medical staff, the small body that lay on the sheet between them.

The color drained from his face. Before Spirit could stop him, Clark shrugged out of his hold, running at the group. He shoved his way past them, nearly knocking Shelley Stein over from where she was kneeling next to the body, and took up his place at the girl's side, grabbing hold of her hand and screaming at her as if he could rouse her like this.

"Ophelia!" he yelled, shaking her hand. Tears streamed down his face. "Hey, come on, this isn't funny, Ophelia. Wake up. Please. Ophelia. Wake up!"

The group of doctors and investigators stared down at him awkwardly, unsure what to do. Spirit raised his hand to the back of his neck as he watched the scene, letting out a weary sigh.

"What a mess…" he muttered under his breath.

Clark's words faded into incomprehensibility and became broken sobs as he held Ophelia's hand close to himself, rocking gently from where he was kneeling next to her body. Mifune watched him for a moment before looking back at Spirit.

"Shinigami-sama had strict orders."

"I know," said Spirit, holding a hand up towards him before running it through his hair. "Just—just give the kid a minute, okay?"

Mifune gave Spirit a skeptical glance, his eyes moving back to Clark, but he kept his criticisms to himself. Even if he had been inclined to share them, he wouldn't have been able to. Everyone's attention was drawn to a sudden change in air currents, to the meister who shot down from the sky like a rocket, standing on a winged-scythe.

Maka Evans leaped the last few feet to the ground, catching the scythe in her hands and using it to prop herself up as she leaned against it. She was breathing hard, face and gown streaked with dirt, but other than that seemed unharmed.

"Maka-chan?" Marie asked, getting up from where she was seated on a metal drum and turning towards her.

Maka shook her head, rage in her expression. "She got away," she said, gripping the scythe with both hands. She shifted her grip to one hand and knelt down suddenly, punching the ground with a cry of anger and enough force to form a small crater. _"Dammit!"_

There was a flash of light, and then Soul was in front of her, crouching down to help her up. Maka inhaled deeply, her fingers digging into the fabric of his suit jacket, then exhaled, getting to her feet. Some of the frenzy left her with that breath as she stood, but her eyes were still burning. She looked around, taking in the scene and frowning as they landed on Clark.

"Why is he here?" she asked, addressing the question to her father.

Spirit shrank back, holding a hand out as if to appease her. "Shinigami's orders—," he began.

"Clark didn't do _anything_ wrong," said Maka, taking a step forward with narrowed eyes. Clark looked up at the sound of his name, watching her with tears still streaking his face.

"I—I believe you, Maka," said Spirit, "But—."

"We just need to ask him a few questions," said Stein, from the commotion around Ophelia. Mifune looked over. He had a hand on Clark's arm to stop him—Mifune noticed that the boy had been in the process of getting to his feet. "We know he didn't have anything to do with this, but he was the last person seen with her, and there are…other complications that we need to discuss."

The light glinted off of Stein's glasses, the words delivered with the professor's usual flat inflection, but Mifune caught the way his grip tightened on Clark's arm, caught the look that Stein shot Clark from behind his glasses that basically amounted to: _'Shut up, cooperate, and keep your head down, and maybe we can help you.'_ Clark looked like he might argue, even opened his mouth to do it, but took a breath instead, clamping his lips shut together.

"We can have this discussion elsewhere," Mifune said, his sole contribution to the conversation as he looked meaningfully at the street in front of him. Maka scowled as she looked between her father and Stein, clearly not happy with the situation, but she gave him a stiff nod, her hands clenched tightly into fists.

* * *

"I don't even know what there is to _discuss_!" Vayne raged, pacing the length of the hallway in a blind fury. Rei nodded from his seat on the bench, too tired and too in shock to argue. He watched as Vayne passed him again, the collar of his dress shirt open and his vest in disarray as he gestured at the closed door. "Clark would _never_ hurt Ophelia! He'd never help anyone hurt her!"

"It's a formality," Morgan said, letting out an exhausted sigh from where she was also seated on the long benches that lined the hallway, her back against the stone wall. "Clark was the last person to be seen with her."

"Because he was her _date_!" Vayne said. "Not—not—."

Vayne's outrage seemed to fade into the background as Rei sat there, white noise at the edge of his thoughts.

There were six of them scattered in various places around the hallway, Rei and Ayame, Vayne and Morgan, Cassie and Ethan. They were all still in their clothes from the ball, although Rei had taken off his tie a long time ago. They had lingered when Shinigami-sama had called the party short and told everyone to go home, had followed when his parents and his grandfather had escorted Clark back to the school. No one had told them not to, but they'd been stopped at the door.

Now there was nothing left to do but wait. He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. Rei wanted to sleep, as absurd as that sounded, but he knew there was no way he would be able to.

It still seemed so surreal to him. One of their classmates couldn't be dead. It was impossible.

And yet everywhere he looked, the evidence pointed to the contrary, leaving him feeling disconnected and numb, more exhausted than anything. He looked around and locked eyes with Morgan, seated on the bench with her bag in her lap and staring at nothing, at Cassie, standing against the wall with a worried expression on her face, at Ayame who was sitting next to him, propping up her head in her hand as she stared glumly at the closed door. Everything about this felt wrong.

They shouldn't have been sitting here in their rumpled finery while the DWMA investigated a murder and his parents interrogated one of his friends. They should have been back at Vayne and Clark's place, where Rei and Morgan would be suffering their way through the inevitable after-party while Ayame danced and laughed and joked around and Vayne prodded Clark for details of his date.

It was all wrong, wrong, wrong. This wasn't how any of this was supposed to go.

Which was why he didn't look up as the argument escalated, didn't turn to notice Vayne until he was stepping forward, until he had a hand around Ethan's dress shirt and was pressing him up against the wall. Rei stared, and the sight was enough to bring him back to reality, the veil around him shattering as he looked up at the two of them.

"What did you say?" Vayne asked, his voice low and dangerous. "I dare you to say it again."

"You don't need to get in my face about it," said Ethan, glaring at Vayne. He grabbed Vayne's hand with his own, twisting it slightly to pull it away from his shirt. "I just _said_ it might be a possibility. People change all the time, and he _was_ the last person seen with her. Who's to say he _wasn't_ in league with this Assassin?"

Vayne tightened his grip on Ethan's shirt, his other hand clenching into a fist. Rei's eyes widened and he half-rose from his seat, ready to stop Vayne, but Cassie intervened before he could, stepping between them and holding her hands up on either side of her. There were tears in her eyes.

"Stop!" she said, "Just _stop_!"

The two of them blinked at her, wide-eyed. When she didn't move, Vayne released his grip on Ethan's shirt slowly, lowering his hands back to his side. Ethan scowled, adjusting his dress shirt without looking at Vayne.

"I'm just saying…" Ethan began.

"You don't need to," Vayne said, not looking at him. "You don't belong here anyway."

" _Vayne_!" Cassie said, sharply.

"No, Cass, you know what, maybe I don't," said Ethan, still not looking at Vayne. He scowled, turning to walk away. "I'm going home. Good night."

He turned, walking towards the exit. Cassie's eyes widened and she looked between him and the rest of them, momentarily torn.

"See what you did?" she asked Vayne, before hurrying to catch up with Ethan. "Ethan! Wait up…"

Rei watched them go, listening until their footsteps faded into the distance, before looking back at Vayne. He was standing in the hallway with a thumb hooked into the pocket of his vest, unapologetic. Ayame and Morgan watched him too, Vayne avoiding all of their gazes and keeping his eyes on the floor.

"Tch," he muttered under his breath, not looking up.

* * *

"I'm telling you," Clark said, rubbing at his eyes in exhaustion, his glasses closed in his other hand. "I don't know anything."

He wanted nothing more than to not be here. Everything about this felt surreal, like he was wandering in a nightmare. Ophelia couldn't be dead. He had seen her just a few hours ago. She couldn't be dead. If he had only walked her home…

Across the table from him, Maka-sensei shot her father a glare, as if Spirit Albarn was personally responsible for bringing him here in the first place. The other Death Scythe, Rei's father, stood with his back to the door, arms folded as he watched the proceedings. The only other person seated across from him was Stein, and the scientist had done nothing but look through his files for the entirely of the interrogation.

"We understand that, Clark, but we need to ask," said Spirit. "You were the last person to be seen with her. You have the same wavelength as her attacker. If there's anything you know—."

"I don't _know_ anything!" said Clark, frustrated. "I don't know where I got my wavelength from, okay? I've always had it! I'm the only meister in my family—you can check. I don't know anything!"

"Are you sure?" Stein asked, speaking for the first time. He looked up at Clark from over his files, his expression unreadable behind his glasses. Clark paused, turning towards him. He noticed that the others did the same, every eye in the room fixing on Stein.

The professor went on as if he didn't notice, his eyes on Clark alone. "A wavelength like Maka's Anti-Magic Wavelength is uncommon but not unheard of," he said. "It crops up in a lot of meisters and weapons. The same can be said for Soul Perception. But a rare wavelength like your Paralyzing Wavelength is usually associated with a family line." He glanced back down at the folder he was looking through, Clark's own, and back up at him. "Are you sure you don't have any other relatives?"

"I don't…"

The full weight of Stein's words hit him and he paused, looking back at the table. Maka watched him with some concern as he seemed to double over, his eyes wide. No. It couldn't be. It couldn't be her. It was impossible.

"Clark?" she asked, half-rising out of her seat.

Clark didn't respond, wrapping his arms tightly around himself as he started to shake.

* * *

"Ethan!" Cassie yelled, jogging after him down the streets. Her heel caught in one of the cobbles and she tripped, nearly falling over, but she managed to right herself, shooting her shoe an offended look before continuing to chase him. Ethan walked for a few moments more before stopping beneath a streetlight, looking over at her.

She came to a stop, breathing hard, the DWMA still looming behind them. Cassie looked up at him, but she didn't recognize what she saw in his face. He seemed angry, distrustful, his eyes narrowed even as he turned towards her.

"Vayne didn't mean any harm," she said quickly. "He's just trying to protect his meister. You know how it is."

"I do," Ethan admitted, his eyes moving away from her. He shot the school a harsh look, then met her eyes again. "It's not Vayne I'm worried about."

 _Clark_ , Cassie realized. She paused to catch her breath, meeting Ethan's eye.

"Clark didn't do anything," she said. "He's not that kind of guy."

"Oh, come on, Cass, how do you know that?" asked Ethan. "He was the last person seen with her. People are already saying that she rejected him and he killed her over it."

"Well those people are _wrong_!" said Cassie, hotly. "Clark's my friend. He's on my team. You think I wouldn't have _noticed_ something?"

"People turn all the time," said Ethan, frowning at her. "Even that Micah. You think all of his friends saw _that_ coming?" Cassie bristled, drawing herself up to her full height. Ethan frowned, noticing that. "I don't want to fight over this," he said, turning away. "I just don't think you should hang around him anymore. He's dangerous. There's a reason he won't fight in the tournament, you know. They say he goes mad—."

"Clark's not a killer, Ethan," said Cassie, clenching her hands into fists. Hot tears stung her eyes, memories she'd rather repress beginning to bubble up to the surface. "I would know."

"Oh yeah?" Ethan asked. " _How_ would you know?"

"I've known killers," said Cassie, her voice hard. Her eyes narrowed at him, and she felt something in herself recede, pulling away. "Clark's not one of them."

Ethan fell silent, staring at her. Cassie watched him like she was watching a stranger.

"Cass…" he said, extending a hand out towards her.

"Stop, just stop!" Cassie said, blinking tears out of her eyes. They trickled down her cheeks, falling to the ground. "I don't want to hear it, Ethan. Just—just go away!"

"I'm just trying to help you," said Ethan, taking a step forward. Cassie took a step back instinctively, her eyes widening as she backed away with him.

"I said go."

"Cass—."

His hand landed on her arm, unleashing a flood of memories. Cassie froze, her eyes wide with terror as everything she would rather forget crashed down on her at once.

" _Don't touch me!"_ she yelled, injecting power behind the words.

Ethan stumbled back as if something had reached out and flung him bodily away from her, holding his hand up as though it had been burned. He stared at her in shock from where she stood in the street, and Cassie looked around with wide eyes, suddenly feeling very small.

Ethan opened his mouth to speak. Before he could, Cassie turned, running headlong down the street.

* * *

She didn't stop running until she reached her apartment, kicking her shoes off when they became a nuisance and running barefoot. The apartment was empty, and she slammed the door behind her, running into her room and curling up against the wall. Her hands were shaking, her fingers gripped tightly around herself. She could still taste the power on her tongue, could still see the look of shock and fear in Ethan's eyes as he was thrown back, as she _compelled_ him to move back.

Her body shook, her mind taking her back into another time.

_Blood._

_She could smell the blood, could hear the screams coming from the room outside, could hear the gunshots. Her hands covered her ears, her body shaking. She wanted to run. She wanted to be anywhere but here, but the Don had told her not to move, so she didn't move. She knew better than that. She sat there, shaking, until it was quiet, until the last echoes of the gunfire faded away._

_Until there was a man standing in front of her, holding a sword that dripped with blood._

_She stared up at him, frozen in fear. His eyes were cold as he looked at her, his long hair falling around his face, and she thought she was going to die. She honestly believed she was going to die. Blood dripped from his sword and her mouth opened, a last ditch effort to plead for her life, but no words came out._

_And then he surprised her. He dropped the sword, sticking it point first into the ground behind him as he walked up to her, crouching in front of her._

"… _What's your name?" he asked, his eyes meeting hers._

_Her tongue stumbled over the syllables, the only name she had needed since her mother died. "…Index," she said._

_The man frowned, his eyes narrowing. His voice was gruff, but not unkind._

" _Your real name," he said._

_It came to her from a place half-forgotten, a place barely remembered, a place that seemed almost like a dream._

"… _Cassandra…"_

Cassandra Crane blinked as the memory passed, staring at her room like she didn't recognize it. She sat there a moment longer as the last traces of the memory left her, then slowly drew herself to her feet, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand and patting life back into her face as she took inventory of herself. Her eyes moved over the clock, taking note of how much time had passed. Almost half an hour. She had run herself ragged, and there were scrapes on her feet, but she was here, in her apartment in Death City. She was safe.

She had friends, and her friends needed her now. She had spent entirely too long neglecting them.

Cassie took a deep breath, forcing the memories back into the far corner of her mind. She picked her headphones up off the desk and slipped them around her neck, running her fingers over the curve of them for reassurance before looking back at the door.

Her phone buzzed, a text from Ethan. She ignored it.

Cassie walked towards the door, her expression resolute, and stepped out into her apartment hallway. The door to Morgan's room was open, telling her that her partner was home.

Her partner. Her meister. Her friend.

Cassie walked towards that open door.

Morgan was standing in front of her desk, holding something in her hands. A violet witch's hat that Cassie had only seen once, raven feathers poking out of the band around the cone. She clutched it in her hands tightly, her grip white-knuckled, and then she set it down on her desk, turning to face her room's long mirror. Cassie watched from the doorway as Morgan fogged the mirror with her breath, watched as she drew out the numbers with a shaking hand.

42-42-56…

She paused on the last number, her finger quivering. Cassie watched as Morgan remained frozen there for a second, her finger hovering over the glass, conflict and fear written all over her face. And then she saw something break inside her partner, saw Morgan withdraw back into herself, pulling her hand back and clutching it tight to her chest. She doubled over, falling to her knees, and began to sob, rocking back and forth from where she knelt in front of the mirror.

Cassie walked over to her solemnly, kneeling down beside her. She pulled Morgan into her arms and smoothed her hair back from her face, let her partner lean against her, whispered comforting words in her ear as Morgan sobbed and wept, her shoulders shaking.

* * *

Professor Franken Stein was not a sentimental man. He was used to death, to dealing with it, and to studying the dead. Even so, that didn't mean he enjoyed the task of having to autopsy a student, especially when he already knew what he would find. Still, he knew he couldn't put it off for much longer, so after dismissing Clark and having him sent back home, he walked past the dispensary, past DWMA's most-traversed hallways, down deeper into the maze of stone that lay beneath the school, towards the morgue.

Stein paused in the doorway, frowning as he studied the scene in front of him.

It was cold when he entered the room, but then again, the morgue was always cold, locked even deeper beneath the school than the dungeons, where even the light would not reach. No one ever spent much time in here if they could help it, not even the other members of the medical staff, so Stein was used to coming here and finding himself completely alone.

He wasn't. The figure of a young woman lay slumped over the desk in the corner, the dim light reflecting off of her silvery white hair. She was still wearing her dress from that evening, an off-white dress just a shade darker than Ophelia's and a sensible pair of white pumps. Her shoulders rose and fell slowly as she breathed.

Stein walked slowly up to the desk. Shelley was asleep, her face turned away from him. Her cheeks were red and puffy, as if she had been crying, but the folder that lay tucked under her arm was written in a clear precise hand. His eyes moved over the label she had attached to it.

_Autopsy Report – Ophelia S._

Stein frowned at her, then reached forward, carefully prying the report out of her grip. His lab coat settled over her shoulders as he picked the report up off the table, thumbing through it quietly as he walked away.

Behind him, Shelley murmured something in her sleep, hands moving up to clutch the coat around herself.

* * *

Their apartment felt hollow to him as he walked through the door, the light dimmer than usual, the shadows more pronounced. Ayame followed him into the living room, the both of them moving like ghosts. Rei let his eyes move over the apartment, over the mess the two of them had made trying to leave for the ball on time, over the half-drunk cup of tea still sitting on the coffee table and the dishes in the sink.

It seemed unbelievable to him that they had been living a normal life here just a few hours ago. He almost didn't recognize the place anymore.

Ayame looked around, dismay in her eyes. She turned to face him, and she seemed duller somehow, more washed out. More tired. He didn't think anything could ever dull Ayame.

"I'm going to bed," he said, his voice flat as he walked past her towards the stairs. "See you tomorrow."

She stopped him, catching him by the arm. Rei paused, too tired to protest as he turned towards her. Ayame let out a breath and seemed to sink into him, wrapping his arm around her waist and collapsing into his chest.

Rei froze in place at the nearness and the warmth and the weight of her, staring down at the top of her head. His eyes widened, her touch drawing him back into reality for half a moment as he looked down at her uncertainly.

"Ayame…?" he asked.

"Stay," she whispered, the words coming out all in a breath. "Just…stay."

She sighed into his chest, closing her eyes.

Rei hesitated, then slowly brought his other arm up, wrapping it around her back and holding her there as he rested his chin on top of her head, the two of them sinking into silence together.


	23. On the Edge of Change

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a feeling you guys will like the next chapter (the one after this one. This one is still sad). Had to compensate for the grimness of this chapter and the previous one after all. Thanks for reading and enjoy!

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO**

**On the Edge of Change**

* * *

Elaine crashed through the castle's front doors, the great wooden doors splintering in her wake as she careened into the stone wall on the opposite side of the foyer. Micah's eyes widened from where he stood on the stairs, and he vaulted over the banister, landing lightly on the ground and running towards her.

She was thrashing against the foyer's marble tiles, holding her head in her hands and letting out huge gulps of air. Her eyes from behind her mask were wide, the pupils contracted to tiny points and staring unseeing at the vaulted ceilings above. Her clothes were soaked with blood, her own, a line of pink light along the length of the wound seeming to be the only thing that held her together, but the sight of the gash was not as unnerving to Micah as the sight of Elaine clawing at herself like a madwoman, her back arched in agony as she stared at the sky.

"My son—," she said, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her voice hoarse from years of disuse. "My son—I have to get—my son—."

Micah blinked at her, momentarily unsure what to do. He placed his hands on her shoulders in an attempt to calm her, crouching down so that he could look into her eyes. "Hey," he said. "Get a hold of yourself."

Elaine screamed and twisted in protest, slamming a foot into his chest. Micah let out a grunt as he stumbled back, thrown against the stone tiles. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, winded, and looked up at the sound of footsteps. Mordred was running down the staircase, taking them two at a time, his coat flaring out behind him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, running to Elaine's side.

"I don't know," Micah said. He coughed and tasted blood in his mouth, realized that he had bitten his lip while he was being thrown back. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, looking up at Mordred. "She just started freaking out."

Mordred looked over at Elaine, who was still convulsing and screaming, her back arching as she muttered "my son" over and over again. He swept his hand through the air, and a circle of light flared up on the floor around Elaine, glowing runes inscribed into the ground beneath her. An identical circle traced itself into the air above her head, forming a wall of light around Elaine. She thrashed as the light suffused her, screaming and lashing out at Mordred, but the wall stopped her, her kicks and blows slamming against it with dull thumps. Her mask clattered to the ground, revealing a face contorted in rage and pain.

Mordred winced as her foot crashed against the wall, forming cracks in the light that were quickly healed. He held out his hand, palm down, then quickly closed it into a fist.

" _Enough_ ," he said, authority in his tone.

He turned his wrist, rotating his fist so that the knuckles were pointing down. The light around Elaine changed in color from white to black and she arched her back, her mouth opening in a soundless scream before all the tension left her in an instant and she went limp.

Her eyes closed, and she slumped against the ground, her breathing slowly evening out. The pink light across her middle continued to pulse, keeping the wound together. Mordred held his hand over her for a moment more before he exhaled, lowering his fist. The light around her faded, the wall seeming to fold into itself before it disappeared from sight, leaving Elaine lying on the ground.

Micah stared at her before slowly getting to his feet. Mordred watched Elaine for a little while longer, his expression unreadable, before he turned towards Micah. "Get her into bed and do what you can for her," he said, walking away. "It's probably best that you let her sleep for now."

Micah nodded numbly, walking over to Elaine. He scooped her up in his arms—she weighed almost nothing—and her head lolled against his shoulder, her chest moving with the slow rise and fall of her breath. In sleep, all of the tension had gone from her face, but she didn't look peaceful. She frowned, her brow twitching as she sank deeper into her dreams.

* * *

Maka did not want to wake up to teach class that morning. But doing so was just part of being at the DWMA—life went on. She and Soul got up and dressed in silence, putting out breakfast for the twins and getting ready to bring them to school without a word. Cori and Annie watched them, concern in their expressions, but neither of the twins spoke that much this morning, as if sensing the need for silence.

It was only when Maka tied the black mourning band around her arm, her expression grim, that Cori spoke up, tugging at her skirt.

"Why?" she asked, pointing at the band.

Maka looked down into her daughter's eyes, wide and questioning, and felt something tug at her chest, poking at a place in her heart that was already so close to breaking. She sucked in a ragged breath and turned towards Cori, placing both of her hands on the girl's shoulders and crouching down so that they were at eye level. Annie hovered uncertainly over her sister's shoulders, looking between the two of them, and Maka met her eyes as well, drawing her into the conversation without touching her.

She wanted to lie, to preserve the innocence she saw in both their eyes, but she also knew better than that. She felt Soul's presence behind her, silent and grim, but there for her, and she drew strength from him.

"Someone died last night," she said, her voice soft. "Someone—a student of mine."

Annie let out a little gasp, her hand clutched tight over her chest, but Cori said nothing, only stared at Maka with that same look of grim resolution, her eyes watering as if she had known the answer all along. The tears didn't fall. Cori Evans clenched her fists, meeting her mother's eyes head on, and Maka noticed a strength and hardness in her daughter that made her proud and broke her heart all at the same time.

"…Did you catch who did it?" Cori asked after a while, her voice soft.

"No," said Maka, her breath catching on the word. Tears stung at her eyes, and Cori's eyes widened, seeing them.

"You're sad," she said, reaching out and placing one small hand against Maka's cheek.

"Yes," Maka said, reaching out and covering Cori's hand with her own. "I'm very sad."

"The guy who did this…he was one of the bad guys, wasn't he?"

"Yes," Maka said again. "Very bad."

"Don't worry, Mama," said Cori, her tone earnest. "When I grow up, I'm going to be strong enough to beat all the bad guys, so you won't ever have to be sad again."

The innocence in Cori's voice, the certainty in her eyes, was almost Maka's undoing. She remembered being that age, being so convinced that that was what she was going to do, that she was going to grow up to defeat all the monsters. And then it turned out that no matter how many monsters she defeated, there would always be more.

She drew Cori to herself, holding her tight. The girl's shoulders shook as Maka wrapped her arms around her, burying her face in her silver hair and inhaling her scent. "I know you will, Corpore," she said. "But first you have to worry about being a kid, okay? Let your papa and I worry about the bad guys. Focus on school, and take care of your sister, okay. You can do that for me, can't you?"

She pulled away, looking Cori in the eyes. Cori nodded solemnly, her hand pressed lightly to her chest. Maka smiled in spite of herself and stroked Cori's hair once, straightening up.

"Good," she said. "I'm counting on you."

Soul reached over as the twins walked past them, placing a hand on Annie's head as she trailed behind Cori. He grabbed Maka's hand as the girls reached the door, and Maka squeezed his hand tightly, realizing that her fingers were cold.

* * *

Angela stood in front of the mirror, feeling slightly uncomfortable in her formal witch's dress. She knew on a mental level that everyone at DWMA knew she was a witch. She'd grown up at the school and had never put on a Soul Protect—her status had never been a secret. Still, coming straight from a Witch's Mass to the small room set aside for her at the Assembly so that she could report to Shinigami felt deceitful, and she couldn't even tell which side she was deceiving.

She breathed deep and held her hands out in front of her, light forming in them.

" _Kama, kami, chamille, chameleon…"_ she muttered under her breath, whispering into her cupped hands. Light spread outwards from them, washing over the room and forming a thin circle that encompassed both her and the mirror.

It might have felt deceitful, but she knew for a fact that just as DWMA used her to get intelligence on the witches, the witches tried to listen in on her conversations to get information on the DWMA. She knew the witches would suspect something if she _didn't_ report back, especially considering the news she had heard from Shelley, but the spell she had set up would fool the senses of anyone listening in, making it so that every time Angela or Shinigami said something that might be considered 'sensitive', the listener would only hear something horribly inane: "How's the weather?" or "I've heard the gardenias are growing out of season," or something ridiculous like that.

Preparations complete, she reached forward and traced numbers onto the surface of the mirror: 42-42-564. The mirror flashed as a connection was established, and then Shinigami appeared on the scene.

He was sitting in the Death Room and looked exhausted, as though he hadn't gotten any sleep last night. He was still dressed in the symmetrical white suit that Angela assumed he had worn to the Anniversary Ball, the white broken up only by the black mourning bands he wore on each arm, two to maintain symmetry. He had dark circles under his eyes as he tried to restore order to the mess of paperwork on his desk. Angela watched him with sympathy—she could already see that it would be a losing battle. She wondered why one of the Thompson sisters hadn't already shown up to try and drag him off to bed.

"You have something to report?" Shinigami asked, his tone unusually brusque as he looked up at the mirror. Given the circumstances, she didn't take it personally.

"The council went into recess yesterday," Angela said, mentally urging her spell to translate this into something mundane. "We went straight into a Witch's Mass, so I haven't been able to make my report." She had no doubt that the timing was intentional—the Assembly must have known that she would have gone straight home for the Anniversary Ball otherwise. "Of course, there's some things I can't share with you—."

Shinigami waved his hand impatiently, signaling that the awkward subject of her divided loyalties was something that could be best left for another time. She interpreted it as a sure sign of his exhaustion that he only gestured at her with _one_ hand, and refrained from pointing it out. The last thing she wanted was to send Shinigami into a downward spiral.

"Don't worry about that," he said. "What _can_ you tell me?"

Angela took a deep breath, launching straight into her report. "The Assembly knows something, but they're very good at keeping it quiet. Something seems to be bothering the Old Witch, but they've made it a point to exclude me or Kim from those conversations. I've been trying to hang out with the younger witches during breaks, but if they know something, they're not telling me. They don't seem to know anything about Micah Cole."

She felt a twinge of guilt, because she thoughtshe knew something about Micah, _did_ know something about the Morrigan that she hadn't told anyone about except Mifune. But she knew that now wasn't the place to tell Shinigami about this. Now might be a good _time_ to tell him what was really going on, but that conversation was something that needed to be held face to face. Besides, Mifune knew. If he hadn't already told Shinigami, then there had to be a reason behind it.

She couldn't quite bring herself to believe that Micah and the Morrigan were unrelated, though. Not if she considered what she knew about him, about the way he had left them.

Shinigami frowned at her, noticing that she had been silent for too long. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

She looked up at him sharply, her eyes widening. "Uh—no," she said. "No, sir. Just—thinking. You already have Kim here. I might be of more use to you there, back at the DWMA."

"I'd been considering that," said Kid, in a clipped manner that told her that he had only started considering it a little while ago, in the long hours of the night. "For the moment, I'd like you to remain where you are. You said the council hasn't finished its meeting. I'd like you to continue listening in to those meetings, along with Kim, and let me know if you hear anything useful. Use your discretion and see if you can impart our concern about these issues with the council. It might be that we have a common enemy."

"But—." _But what about Shelley?_ The words died on her tongue. Her concern for her partner, for what Shelley might do or feel all alone in their apartment, was something that she knew Shinigami would understand on a normal day, but it wasn't a normal day. She dropped her eyes to the ground, nodding grimly. If she were here for any other reason, she might have asked Shelley to come with her, but outsiders weren't allowed at council meetings. There would be nothing for her weapon to do here other than hang out with Jackie all day, and since the two of them weren't particularly close, it would be almost worse than leaving her in Death City.

"I understand," she said. "I'll let you know what I find."

"Thank you," said Shinigami.

The connection dropped between them, Shinigami's eyes dropping back to his work. Angela stood in the silence of her room for several long moments before she sighed, waving her hand and dispersing her spell.

* * *

It was dark in Clark's room, the curtains drawn over the windows to block out the ever-present Nevada sun. He sat at the edge of his bed, staring down at a picture in his hands. It was the one picture that he had from his early childhood. It showed him as a toddler, wrapped up in his father's arms, a blond woman standing next to him and resting her head on his father's shoulder. She smiled at the camera, but her smile had a distracted edge even then, her gray eyes appearing slightly unfocused in the light from the camera flash. He ran his thumb over her face, feeling his heart ache.

It couldn't be true, could it? He was the first meister in his family.

Or so he thought, but when it came down to it, he really didn't know that much about his mother.

_Why did you leave?_

The question burned in him the same way it had always burned. He felt it like a live coal in his chest as he stared at the picture, his stomach starting to churn with the possibilities. He almost didn't notice when the door to his room opened, when Vayne stuck his head in.

"I'm leaving," his partner said.

Clark nodded and set the picture aside, moving to stand up. Vayne frowned at him.

"You don't have to go," Vayne said. "You heard Maka-sensei. You can take the day off."

Clark shook his head. It was nice of them, really it was, to give him some time to deal with this, but he didn't want that. He didn't want to sit here in this room alone, while everyone else spread rumors about him. He didn't think he could handle it.

"I want to," he said, not quite meeting his partner's eyes.

Vayne said nothing more to that, but nodded, swinging the door open wider for him as he walked towards it.

Ayame and Rei met them at the foot of the DWMA's steps, both wearing mourning bands, and Clark knew from the glances that the two of them exchanged with Vayne that they had been waiting for him there. He couldn't help but feel worse as they fell into formation around him, as though shielding him. When Cassie walked towards them from her seat on the steps, staring out at the city, Clark couldn't meet her eyes.

"Where's Morgan?" Vayne asked, frowning at her as she started walking alongside them.

"Sick," Cassie responded, in the sort of way that told the others it might be true, or it might not, but it didn't really matter in the end. Clark had a feeling that more than a few of DWMA's students would be 'sick' today.

Vayne nodded grimly in response to that. Ayame glanced over at Cassie.

"Ethan?" she asked.

Cassie shrugged. "I broke up with him," she said, her voice flat. "No chemistry."

A few days back, Clark would have been overjoyed to hear those words. They hardly registered now.

They reached the top of the steps and walked into a wave of jeers. N.O.T. students were milling around the courtyard, and the moment they saw him, they turned towards him, a handful of them calling out insults. Clark tried to keep his eyes on the floor, ignoring them. Everyone important already knew that he hadn't had anything to do with Ophelia's death, but that hadn't stopped the rumors. He thought he would have been ready for them.

He wasn't.

"Murderer!" someone shouted.

Movement registered in his peripheral vision, a ball of wadded up paper flying towards him. Clark winced, preparing himself for the impact, but it never came. He looked up to see Ayame's hand out in front of his face, crushing the paper ball in her grip.

"You punks want to start something?" she asked, eyes narrowed at the group of boys standing to their left. Her aura crackled around her, a wave of electricity that Clark could feel even without Rei's Soul Perception. The boys stumbled over themselves in their rush to get away. Ayame snorted in derision, opening her hand and letting the crumpled paper fall to the ground.

"Thought not," she said.

They continued to walk, making it to Class Moonless Night just as the final bell rang. The class went quiet as they walked into the room, heads turning to watch Clark as he made his way down the aisle. He caught sight of Yorick leaning against a wall, glaring at him with hooded eyes, his massive arms folded across his chest. He looked down, settling into his seat.

Maka-sensei watched the scene impatiently from the bottom of the room, her arms folded and her gradebook in her hands. She waited until they were seated, tapping her foot on the ground.

"Alright!" she said. "That's enough! We're going to clear this up right now. Rhythm, Yorick, close the doors."

Rhythm got up from her seat nearest the one of the classroom's doors, shooting Maka a sullen look before pulling the door shut. She looked like she had been crying. Yorick lumbered over to the other door, pulling it closed and standing next to it like a bouncer. The class lapsed into perfect silence, and Maka looked over them for a moment before walking over to her own desk, pulling herself up so that she was sitting on it.

"Come closer," she said, gesturing at them.

They moved forward with some reluctance, hovering around her. Clark tried to linger to the back of the group, but he found himself pushed closer towards its center, his eyes still on the ground as Maka spoke.

"By now all of you know something about what happened last night," said Maka, her eyes drifting from one student to the next, all of them wearing mourning bands. "But there are a lot of rumors flying around. I think you, all of you, deserve the truth, so I'm going to tell it to you. But a lot of this information is still classified, so it _never_ leaves this room. Do you understand me?"

People nodded their heads, their eyes wide with interest as they watched Maka. Clark kept his eyes on the ground.

"Your classmate—Ophelia—was murdered at 10:37 PM last night, on her way home from the Anniversary Ball. Her body was found in the reservoir. You all know that much. Her killer—," and here she paused to give Clark a pointed glance, "— _wasn't_ Clark, but was an enemy that we, your teachers, have known about for a while. We don't know her name yet, but we've been calling her the Assassin. And yes, we know that she is _a)_ a woman, and _b)_ in her mid-to-late thirties. We've caught her practically in the act, so we _know_ that Clark had nothing to do with it."

"Then why interrogate him?" asked someone from the back of the group. Clark didn't turn to see who it was.

"Because, as you might have heard from the rumors, she and Clark have the same wavelength, so we brought Clark back to the school to _ask_ him if he knew who she might be." The way she said it indicated that she wouldn't have brought him back quite so publicly, if she had had much of a say in it. She looked around, meeting all of their eyes. "I can't tell you much more than that. I shouldn't have been able to tell you _this_ much, but I did for two reasons. First, this is the class that was hardest hit by this tragedy. Ophelia was one of us, and we all deserve to know the truth. But _second_ —." She paused again, looking pointedly at the people that stood in the front row. "—Clark is also one of us. I can't stop the rumors going around the whole school, but I can stop them from happening _in this classroom._ In times like this, it's more important than ever that we all stand together."

Someone in the middle of the room raised their hand. "Yes?" Maka asked, turning towards them.

"What about the rumors that Clark goes mad when he fights?"

In response to that, Maka glanced at him. "Clark?"

"It's true," Clark said, not looking up. "I'm…susceptible to madness. It's triggered by fighting, usually in a competition. It's why I don't enter tournaments. But—." He took a deep breath, clenching his fists and looking up at the room. "—I would _never_ hurt Ophelia. I would never—."

He fell silent, interrupted by Yorick as he strode forward, the other members of their class parting for him. Yorick glared down at him, placing his hand on the back of Clark's head and forcing his face up so that the two of them were looking at each other.

"Look me in the eye," Yorick said. "Look me in the eye and tell me you didn't do it."

Clark let out a rattling breath, meeting Yorick's eyes. "I would never hurt Ophelia," he said. "I would never do this to her."

Yorick held Clark's gaze for a long moment before he released him, pushing him away. "Good enough," he said. "Anyone have a problem with you, tell them they can talk to _me_."

"And _me_ ," said Ayame, stepping forward. Rei said nothing, but moved forward with her, placing a hand on Clark's shoulder and gripping it tight.

"Me," said someone else in the class.

"And me!"

"Me too!"

Their voices rose in chorus, the class grouping around him to voice their support, but Clark barely heard them, his eyes drifting back to the ground. It became too much, too much for him, and he couldn't hold himself together any more.

He broke down and cried.

* * *

Cassandra Crane sat in her room for a while after school that day, staring at the book she was reading without actually absorbing anything on the page. Once in a while, her phone would buzz, the sound cutting through the ambient music that she was playing on her headphones, and she would raise her head and shoot it an irritated glare. Normally, reading and listening to music was enough to allow her to block out the world, but it wasn't working today. Instead, the exercise only served to make her more and more annoyed, until she finally scowled and shut off her headphones, setting them down and closing the book.

It looked like this wasn't going to be the sort of reality she could escape from.

Cassie stared at the wall of her room for a few long moments before rubbing at her eyes, taking a deep breath and standing up. She might as well check on Morgan.

She paused at the door, a frown coming onto her face as she remembered her partner's breakdown the night before. Morgan's door had been closed when Cassie had gotten up for school this morning, and had been closed again when Cassie returned, although there was some evidence that Morgan had gotten up and moved around in the interim. She half-expected to find Morgan's door closed a third time, but when she opened her door and looked out in the hallway, Morgan's door was open, and she could hear the sound of her partner moving around in the kitchen.

Cassie paused, a frown on her face. She opened her mouth to call out, but was stopped by the sound of the doorbell. She watched from the hallway as Morgan reappeared in the living room, walking over to the door. Morgan pulled the door open wide, frowning at the boy on the other side.

"Vayne?" she asked.

"Uh—hi, Morgan," said Vayne, placing a hand on the back of his neck and giving her a sheepish smile. "I heard you weren't feeling well. Thought I'd come by and see how you were doing."

Cassie stepped forward, about to join them in the living room, but stopped in the hallway, her hand on the wall as Morgan smiled, her expression softening as she shook her head.

"I appreciate your concern, but I feel a lot better now," she said. "As you can see."

"Uh, yeah," said Vayne, letting out a nervous chuckle. "I can see that. That's great. So, um, I'm just gonna go…"

He took a step back reluctantly, half-turning towards the street, but he lingered there for a moment, watching Morgan. Cassie blinked in surprise as Morgan rolled her eyes, pulling the door open wider. She was still smiling.

"Would you like to come inside?" she asked. "I'm making tea."

"Sure!" said Vayne a little too quickly, taking a step forward. "Uh—tea would be great."

Cassie watched with some surprise as Morgan stepped aside, giving Vayne space to enter the apartment. Then, she smiled, stepping back and quietly retreating into her room.

* * *

Rei, Morgan, and Clark stood in the training forest the next day, forming a triangle so that each of them could see the other two. They locked eyes for a moment, each one holding their weapons, before Rei closed his eyes, sinking back into resonance with Ayame. There was none of the levity of their first try at this, not after what had happened two days ago. Instead, it felt like he was falling, like Ayame's soul was rising up to catch him. Her wavelength wrapped around his, his soul expanding to fill the space between him and the others, the wind kicking up around him and tugging at his hair and jacket.

He felt Clark's and Morgan's wavelengths rise up in turn, as subdued as his, but clear and strong. He reached for their wavelengths and felt the sort of clarity he had never felt with this exercise before, felt Clark's grief and uncertainty and insecurity laid bare, felt Morgan's fear and doubts and all of her secrets and guilt, and knew that they could feel the same from him, could feel the innermost parts of his soul, his shadows all laced up with Ayame's brightness and light until it was difficult to tell where one ended and the other began.

It was as if, over the past few days, the six of them had made the decision to simply stop hiding from each other.

Their souls touched each other, then flared up, merging into one bright light that shone around them, stronger and greater than the sum of its parts. Rei could see it even with his eyes closed as it swelled to encompass the space around them. He heard it like it was music, a resounding harmony that filtered through the air in the moments before the three of them slowly eased up on it, breaking the connection.

He opened his eyes at the end, almost sorry to be in the real world again. Their eyes met for the span of a breath, and then turned as one to face the man who was leaning beneath one of the trees, watching them.

"Good," said Stein, straightening up. "You've managed a chain resonance, your first step as a real team. And the leader of this team will be…"

His eyes moved over each of them in turn, before landing on his. Rei watched him solemnly, resolved that in this, he wouldn't back down.

"…Rei."

* * *

Mifune stood on the balcony of the DWMA, looking out over the city, and considered that a change was coming, an electricity in the air that seemed to touch every soul in Death City, from the least of its citizens to Shinigami himself. He rested his hands on the hilt of his sword, his mind going back to the meeting he had just left, a small gathering in a small room by those who were in the know, that it was finally time to reveal everything to Shinigami.

He studied the desert on the outskirts of the city, his eyes scanning the horizon. Tomorrow, things would change. For better or for worse, the false peace of the last two years would finally be coming to an end.

He thought he saw a line on the horizon as he turned away, a figure running across the barren earth, trailing a cloud of sand behind him.

* * *

**Omake**

_Morgan and Cassie's Apartment_

Morgan frowned as the doorbell rang a second time, getting up from the book she was reading to answer it. Vayne had left a little while ago, and she didn't think he would be using the same excuse to drop in so readily. She opened the door, prepared to say something about it, then frowned as she saw who was really there.

Ethan stood across from her, a sheepish smile on his face and his hand upraised. "Hey, Morgan," he said. "I was wondering if I could talk to Ca—."

Morgan narrowed her eyes at him. "I never liked you," she said flatly, closing the door.


	24. Return of the Warrior God

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some elements in this chapter that I've been dying to write since very early on in the fic, so I hope you guys enjoy them (although many of you have already guessed where this chapter is going, if your reviews are any judge of that~).

**CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE**

**Return of the Warrior God**

* * *

"And here we are," Ayame said, flashing him a quick smile as she and Rei walked up the DWMA's stairs. "Ten minutes _early_. See, Rei. I told you we'd make it."

Rei walked up the stairs in silence, his book bag tossed over his shoulder and a sullen look on his face. All around him, students of the DWMA passed them, jogging easily up the stairs and chatting with each other. He let them. He had had more than enough of running this morning, after Ayame had woken him up at the _crack of dawn_ because she apparently decided she wanted him to come with her on her jog.

For some reason.

"Oh, cheer up," said Ayame, jostling him playfully by bumping into his shoulder with her own. "Have I ever steered you wrong?"

"Well…" Rei began.

"When it comes to _training_ , Rei. _Train-ing._ Come on, you can admit it. I'm the best darned coach there is."

"Sure, Ayame," Rei said. "Whatever you say."

Ayame puffed out her cheeks, annoyed, and Rei turned his eyes back to the steps ahead of him, not bothering to argue with her. Ever since Ophelia's death, she had become even more obsessive about their training, which wasn't exactly a bad thing, all things considered, but understanding her reasons didn't magically make him a morning person.

Still, he had to admit that Ayame wasn't _wrong._ She was…a surprisingly good teacher.

Not that he would ever tell her that.

"Honestly," Ayame said, as the two of them walked up the last of the steps and into the DWMA's courtyard. "You should be grateful. I'm the product of not one, but _two_ ninja clans, and we don't teach our arts to just anyone. You're lucky you're my meister, Rei, otherwise—."

" _AYAMEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"_

The sound echoed throughout the DWMA's courtyard, coming from far away. Ayame broke off suddenly, her eyes widening as she looked up at the sky. Before Rei could even open his mouth to ask her what was going on, she placed a hand on his chest and shoved him away from her. He stumbled back, arms flailing as he tried to regain his balance, then fell over completely as Ayame's backpack struck him in the chest, knocking the wind out of him.

A figure leaped from one of the spires, falling towards Ayame.

Rei looked up as Ayame sunk into a crouch, raising her crossed wrists over her head just in time to block a kick. The force of the kick was strong enough to push her down into the earth, cobblestones cracking around her and pushing the air away from her like an aura. Rei had barely caught sight of a head of turquoise hair, barely had time to feel what felt like a truly frightening wavelength, before the newcomer rocked back onto the ground, spinning around and aiming another kick at Ayame's chest.

Ayame leaped back, avoiding the blow just barely. Her eyes narrowed in concentration as the figure moved to chase her, and she ducked underneath a punch to her face, her blue hair streaming out behind her like a ribbon as she thrust the palm of her hand at her opponent's neck. Her opponent grinned, a pause in his movement that lasted only a split second, before he grabbed her wrist and twisted, flipping her over.

She lashed out with her foot as she flipped, kicking at his ear. Her opponent jerked his head back, the two of them moving almost too fast to see, and in doing so, loosened his grip on Ayame's wrist. She pulled her hand out of his grasp and curved her spine as she landed on the ground, translating the energy of her fall into a breakdance spin, kicking out at him with her feet to keep him at a distance before pushing herself off the ground, flipping over backwards and landing a few feet away from him.

She was breathing hard, her eyes narrowed in determination and beads of sweat forming on her skin. Her opponent launched himself after her, aiming a punch to her sternum, and Ayame moved to deflect the blow, stepping inside her opponent's reach and jabbing her elbow at his nose.

Students shouted in alarm, scrambling to move out of the way as the two of them traded blows across the courtyard, leaping from place to place and moving so quickly that they were almost a blur. Rei stared, bewildered, trying to catch sight of them so that he could tell which way the fight was going and finding himself unable to tell them apart.

Then Ayame leaped away from the melee, trying to gain distance, and Rei realized that she was getting tired. She landed on the ground and misjudged the landing, her foot sliding out from under her for an instant.

That was all her opponent needed. He grinned, crossing the distance between them in a flash. Ayame's eyes widened as she started to fall, and that was the last Rei saw of her as her opponent wrapped his arm around her shoulders, slamming her to the ground. They disappeared in a cloud of dust, the courtyard shuddering with the force of impact.

Rei heard the sound of stone cracking. He sat up, alarmed, then paused as he heard…laughter?

The dust cleared, revealing the two of them sitting in the center of a small crater, laughing. The man (and Rei saw clearly now that it _was_ a man) had an arm around Ayame's shoulders, ruffling her hair, and Ayame laughed, dust clinging to the sweat on her skin.

"Hey, not bad, kiddo!" he said, rubbing his fist on the top of her head affectionately. "You've picked up some new moves!"

"Well, y'know," Ayame said, sitting up proudly and wiping at her nose. "Can't slack off too much."

"That's my girl! You take over the school yet?"

"Working on it!" Ayame said with a grin, clenching her hand into a fist. She let out a girlish squeal, throwing her arms around his neck. "Oh my gosh, it's so good to _see_ you! Is Mom here too? Where's Mom? You have to meet all of my fri—."

"BLACK STAR!" shouted Shinigami, from somewhere directly behind Rei.

Rei jumped up sharply, startled. Shinigami strode past him, his face contorted in anger as he came to the stop of the crater. Ayame blinked up at him, pulling away from the hug.

"Why is it that you can't come to visit without destroying _my school_?!" He pointed at the crater, glaring at Black Star. "Every _single_ time you come here! How many times do I have to tell you—."

"Hello, Kid-kun," said a woman, coming from just behind Shinigami. She had a smile on her face, her hands clasped behind her back. Rei stared, realizing that he hadn't seen her approach. Shinigami broke off to glance at her.

"— _Hello,_ Tsubaki," he said, before turning back towards Black Star. "As I was _saying,_ Black Star—." Shinigami stopped suddenly, blinking. "Wait…why _are_ you here?"

Black Star frowned up at Shinigami. "You going senile or something, Kid?" he asked. "You called us back."

Shinigami frowned. "No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"No, I didn't. I would have remembered—." He paused, shooting a glare suddenly at someone in the crowd. Rei looked over his shoulder and saw his grandfather disappearing into the crowd of students, trying to make himself look very small. "—Never mind," Shinigami said. "We'll discuss this later. And _you_ will be helping me fix that hole."

Rei watched as Shinigami turned on heel and walked back through the crowd, a wave of awed mutters following in his wake. Black Star snorted, getting to his feet and brushing the dust from his clothes. "He's delusional," he said, holding out a hand to Ayame. "I'm not helping him fix nothing."

Ayame took his hand, pulling herself up to her feet and trying to dust off her own clothes. Considering that she was practically covered in dust, it wasn't helping.

"Oh, Ayame-chan, come here," said Tsubaki, pulling a handkerchief out of her pocket. "Let me help."

"Missed you too, Mom," Ayame said, giving her a look of chagrin as Tsubaki started wiping her face.

Rei took that as his cue to stand, holding her book bag in one hand. He walked over to them just as Tsubaki was stepping away, smiling.

"There," he heard Tsubaki say. "All better. Look at you, Ayame-chan. You're growing up so much already."

Ayame grinned, then launched herself at her mother, wrapping her arms tightly around her. Tsubaki blinked, holding her arms out to catch her, then wrapped them around her head as Ayame closed her eyes, tucking her chin into the crook of her mother's shoulder.

"I really did miss you," Ayame said, smiling. She pulled away, locking eyes with Rei. Before Rei could react, she jogged over to him, grabbing him by his free hand and pulling them towards her parents. "Mom, Dad, this is Rei," she said. "You remember Rei."

"Of course I remember Rei-kun," said Tsubaki, smiling. "You're starting to look just like your father."

"Uh, thanks," said Rei, flatly.

"Hey, look at you!" said Black Star, grinning. "The last time I saw you, you were like…this high." He held his hand out at knee height. "And kind of wimpy. And now, look at you. You're—uh—taller."

"Thanks," Rei said. "Really. Thanks."

Tsubaki let out a slightly embarrassed chuckle. Black Star didn't seem to notice.

"So how long are you going to be back for?" Ayame asked.

"A little while, I think," Tsubaki said. "We don't have another mission lined up just yet."

"Yep," Black Star said, stretching. "Just enough time to check in, see some people. Speaking of, Rei, your parents around here?"

"Mom should be getting ready to teach right now," said Rei. "Dad's…probably around somewhere. He's been busy lately too."

Black Star made a face. "What about Mifune?" he asked. "He still here?"

"He's still here," Ayame said. "I don't think he has a homeroom class."

"Sweet!" said Black Star, taking off at a run. "Mifune!" Rei heard him yell as he ran into the school. "Where are you? Fight me!"

"That's Dad," said Ayame, grinning. She rocked back and forth on her heels, her hands clasped behind her back. Rei glanced at her.

"I see the family resemblance," he said.

Ayame grinned proudly in response.

"You two should go to class," said Tsubaki. "I'll go find Black Star. We'll talk later though, Ayame-chan. I want to meet all of your friends."

"Definitely!" said Ayame, nodding.

Rei nodded as well. "Later for sure," he said.

Tsubaki turned, following Black Star. Rei stood with Ayame while she watched her go, and then the two of them turned, making their way to class.

* * *

Ten minutes before their parents were scheduled to come over for dinner, Rei was standing in the kitchen setting out plates and trying desperately to stay out of Ayame's way.

She was in the living room, running the vacuum back and forth across the carpet at a speed that seemed to defy reason. He watched out of the corner of his eye as she hefted the sofa with one hand, not seeming to notice its weight at all as she vacuumed beneath it. The phrase "panic cleaning" hardly did what she was doing justice.

"Relax," Rei said, as she set the couch down and went to work on the bookshelves. "The place is already clean."

"It's clean for _you_!" Ayame said, a scowl on her face as she ran back and forth across the living room. "Not for my mom! She'll spot a speck of dust a mile away!"

Rei rolled his eyes, going back to setting out the plates. He didn't have much else to do, considering Ayame's mom had _specifically_ told him not to cook anything. It left him feeling strangely antsy—the kitchen was usually his part in their shared responsibilities. He wondered if he should at least start the rice.

Before he could think about that, the doorbell rang, about seven minutes early. Ayame let out a panicked squeal, and the vacuum cleaner's whine abruptly shut off, followed by the sound of Ayame picking up the appliance and stomping away. He took his time walking to the door, giving her time to compose himself before opening it.

They were all outside, both his and Ayame's parents, waiting. Rei wondered if they had come here together or if that was just a coincidence. Black Star and Tsubaki stood in front of the door, Tsubaki holding a bag of groceries in one hand and the hand of a dark-haired six-year old boy in the other. Rei assumed the boy was Bright Star, Ayame's brother.

"Hey, Mom! Hey, Dad!" Ayame said, leaning against the door and trying and failing to look casual. "Come on in!"

"Nice place," Black Star said with a grin, walking past them and heading into the apartment. "It's smaller than my old room at the DWMA."

"It's not too bad. Come on. Let me show you around!" Ayame peeled away from the door to deal with her father, and Tsubaki smiled at Rei, holding up the bag of groceries.

"Thank you for letting us come over on short notice, Rei-kun," she said. "Do you mind if I use your kitchen?"

Rei shook his head. "Not at all," he said, opening the door wider for her. She walked into the kitchen, a smile on her face. He held the door open while his parents and sisters walked into the room, but the four of them had been here many times before. Annie and Cori made a beeline for the couch while Maka paused to look around the living room, eyes wide.

"It's so clean!" she said, sounding slightly awed.

Soul snorted. "Well, we know Rei didn't do it," he said.

"Ha ha, Dad, very funny," said Rei. He moved to shut the door, then frowned when he noticed that four more people were waiting outside, watching the door expectantly. Specifically: Vayne, Clark, Morgan, and Cassie.

"Don't mind if I do," said Vayne, grinning as he walked in.

"What are you doing here?" Rei hissed, looking back at his parents before turning towards Vayne.

Vayne shrugged. "Free food," he said. "Besides…" He glanced back at Clark, then gave Rei a meaningful look. Rei sighed, understanding. Ever since Ophelia's death, Clark had been…a little withdrawn.

He pulled the door open wider. "Well, come in if you're going to come in," he said. "I'm gonna see if Ayame's mom needs help."

"Nice," said Vayne, giving him a knowing smirk. "Get on the good side of the parents."

Rei elbowed him sharply in the ribs, then went off to the kitchen. Tsubaki was rinsing fish out when he got there, the ingredients for sushi laid out on the table beside her. Rei said nothing, but walked over to one of the drawers, pulling out the knives.

"Oh, you don't have to help, Rei-kun," said Tsubaki. "I like cooking." She paused to look over at Bright Star as he tugged at her shirt, pointing into the living room where the girls—Cori at least—had managed to convince Vayne to put on some video games. "Yes, you can play with Annie-chan and Cori-chan, but you have to behave and do whatever Aunt Maka and Uncle Soul tell you."

Bright Star nodded solemnly before running off into the living room. Rei watched him go out of the corner of his eye, frowning. He seemed a little too…quiet to be part of Ayame's family.

"Yeah, don't trust him," said Ayame from behind him, nearly making him hit the ceiling. "He's a sneaky little brat."

"Don't _do_ that!" Rei said, whirling around to face her.

"This coming from the guy who can see in any direction?" asked Ayame, giving Rei a skeptical frown.

"You know it's not on all the time!" said Rei.

"Well, it should be."

Rei scowled, rubbing at the back of his head. "Ugh, that sounds like a pain."

"Slacker," Ayame said with a shrug, moving past Rei and stepping closer to her mother. To Tsubaki, she said "You know he's only going to listen to Maka-sensei and Mr. E."

"I know," said Tsubaki, picking up a knife. "But it was easier than listing everyone's names. I like your friends, by the way, Ayame-chan."

"You met them?" Ayame asked, leaning against the counter.

"Mm. We ran into them on the way. They're good kids. I'm glad they're on your team." Tsubaki frowned. "Clark-kun is the one you told me about, isn't he?"

Ayame nodded. "He liked Ophelia."

"Poor boy," Tsubaki said, a sympathetic frown on her face. "It's a good thing he has all of you around him."

"Yeah," Ayame said. "Even if he is a pain in the butt sometimes."

Tsubaki gave her a quick smile, going back to her work. "I like your apartment too," she said, her voice warm. "You did a good job decorating it. It looks very nice."

"Not as nice as you'd make it," said Ayame, twirling a strand of blue hair around her finger and looking away uncertainly. Tsubaki gave her an encouraging smile, before going back to cooking.

Rei, getting the sense that he was intruding on something very private, turned and left the room.

* * *

"Oh, come on!" Vayne said, as Morgan's car whizzed past his a second time. "I thought you were new at this!"

"I am," said Morgan, balancing the controller neatly in her hands and sitting primly at the edge of Rei and Ayame's couch. A smirk touched the corner of her lips. "You're just bad."

"Oooh," Ayame said, grinning at them from her seat on the arm of one of the living room's armchairs. "You gonna take that, Vayne?"

"Heck no," said Vayne, scowling and leaning over the controls. He pushed the analog sticks forward, his car executing a tight turn and whipping around Morgan's. "Take that!"

"Special move," said Morgan, calmly pressing a button. Her car shot forward like a rocket, overtaking Vayne's and knocking it out of the way. On the screen, the fictional crowd cheered as Morgan's car crossed the finish line. Vayne scowled, grumbling to himself as he leaned forward in his seat, pressing the rematch button.

"Crushing the dreams of orphans," he muttered under his breath, watching as the game put up a loading screen. "What's next, you heartless monster? Drinking the blood of the innocents?"

"Hmm...maybe," said Morgan, moving her eyes to the armchair on her right and glancing at the three children crowded onto the seat as if she was considering it. Her smirk widened, easily noticeable now.

On the armchair, Bright Star looked back at Morgan blankly and shrugged, as if trying to convey that he didn't exactly count as one of the 'innocents'. Annie let out a shriek of terror, cowering behind Cori and nearly pushing her sister off of the chair. Cori's eyes widened, and she grabbed onto the arm with one hand to stay seated.

"Annie, she _can't_ drink your blood!" Cori yelled. "She literally _can't_!"

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no!" Annie shouted, crouching down behind Cori and covering her head in her arms.

" _Annie!"_

The sounds carried over into the kitchen, where the adults were seated, a collection of empty plates piled up between them. The four of them looked up, glancing at the living room to make sure that things were alright, and then as one, turned back to their conversation. Laughter rang out in the living room where the kids were playing.

"It's too bad Kid-kun couldn't be here," Tsubaki mused, looking back at the others.

"Yeah, what's up with him anyway?" asked Black Star, scowling. "Didn't even say hi today, just came out and yelled at me about something stupid, then walked away."

"Kid's under a lot of stress," Maka pointed out, frowning. "This whole thing with Ophelia…I don't think anyone's seen much of him lately."

"How about you, Soul?" Black Star asked. "You know what he's up to?"

Soul snorted, a frown on his face. "Beats me," he said. "He spends most of his time locked up in the Death Room. You're gonna have to ask Liz and Patty."

Black Star frowned. "Are he and Liz still doing that thing where they pretend they don't like each other?"

"Black Star!" Tsubaki said, surprised.

"What?" asked Black Star, turning towards her. "I'm just asking!" He looked back at Soul and Maka. "So are they?"

Maka frowned, glancing down at the tabletop. She traced circles on the wood, considering her answer. "It's gotten a little better now," she said. "But…yeah. I know it's really hard on Liz."

"Tch," said Black Star, leaning back in his seat. "They need to get over themselves already. Life's too short."

"It's not that simple," said Maka. "Kid's…going to be around for a long time. And the rest of us…"

She fell silent at that, drumming her fingers on the tabletop. From the living room, Ayame let out a cry of triumph, followed by Vayne shouting in dismay. The game on the screen seemed to have changed to a fighting game. None of them said anything until Tsubaki looked up, tentatively breaking the tense silence.

"Um…I noticed Ox-kun is back," she said. "I'm guessing he and Kim are um…off again?"

"What do you think?" Soul asked, leaning back in his seat. "Wouldn't ask him about it if I were you, though."

"Noted…" Tsubaki said. "Is it the same sort of problem as with Kid-kun, or is it just…?" She trailed off, gesturing vaguely into the air.

"Ox things?" Soul finished. He shrugged. "You tell me."

"Oh yeah," said Black Star. "While we're digging up dirt on everyone, anyone heard from Kilik lately?"

"Gone off to visit the Earth Shamans for a bit," said Soul. "And…" He paused, trading a look with Maka. Maka lifted her hand to her mouth to hide her giggles. Black Star and Tsubaki looked between them, frowning.

"And?" Black Star asked.

"Nothing," said Maka and Soul at the same time.

Tsubaki frowned. "That didn't look like nothing," she said.

"No, really," said Maka, waving her hand dismissively. "It's nothing. You're going to have to ask Patty though."

" _Patty?!"_ Black Star and Tsubaki asked, leaning forward at the same time.

Maka straightened up, fighting to maintain her composure as beside her, Soul stifled laughter. "I'm not saying any more," she said.

"What about you guys?" asked Soul, when he had recovered. "Run into anything interesting?"

"Eh, not much," said Black Star, leaning back. "Some weird shit happening in Europe. Madness, disappearances, random monster attacks. That sort of thing."

"There's also the matter of who exactly called us back, if Kid-kun didn't do it," said Tsubaki, frowning.

"Mifune knows something," said Black Star. "That shifty-eyed bastard was being all 'mysterious' when I ran into him today."

"Sid too," said Soul. "And Maka's old man. It's been going on for a while."

The four of them went quiet for a moment as they considered the implications of that. Tsubaki tapped her finger on the tabletop, thinking. "They have to have a reason for keeping it secret, whatever it is," she said. "I can't imagine any of them wanting to harm the DWMA."

"Well, whatever it is, they better come clean soon," Maka said. "I don't think things are going to stay peaceful for much longer."

The silence stretched on between them for a while longer, broken only by the sound of Ayame and Vayne trying to encourage Clark to play. After a while, Black Star tipped his chair back, making an impatient noise. "Well, whatever. Who cares about that crap? Either talk about something else or go grab us some drinks."

"How's Ayame doing?" Tsubaki interjected smoothly, a smile on her face as she leaned forward over the table.

Maka blinked, then quickly joined the conversation again. "Oh, Ayame's doing fine. She gets a little distracted during lectures, but she's at the top of the combat-related classes, and she and Rei are doing well on missions…"

* * *

Rei draped a blanket over Cori where she lay asleep on the couch, motioning for Vayne and the others to keep quiet as he walked around to the armchair and did the same thing to Annie. The girl twitched, scrunching up her face as the blanket settled over her, then relaxed, exhaling and rolling over onto her side. She pulled the blanket close around her, curling up into a small ball. He patted her on the head, smiling fondly, then looked back at the others.

His and Ayame's parents had left their siblings here after the dinner, apparently heading out to a bar. To hear Black Star say it, they were also going to stop by Gallows Manor and "bring Kid even if we have to drag him". He felt an involuntary shiver run down his spine at the thought—he swore only their parents would even _consider_ manhandling Shinigami. He watched as Bright Star moved towards the couch and Ayame grabbed at his arm to stop him, Bright Star rubbing at his eyes as if trying to signal that he was sleepy.

"Don't even think about it, Mister," she said. "You wanna sleep, you're coming up to my room with me. Where _I_ can keep an eye on you."

Rei watched them go, Ayame carrying her brother up the stairs, then followed the others back into the kitchen. Vayne, Clark, Cassie and Morgan had stayed behind to help clean, and Clark stood in the kitchen, half-heartedly doing dishes while the others worked on putting the house back in order. They waited until Ayame's door had closed before resuming their conversation.

"Did you guys see that fight this morning?" Vayne asked, wiping down the table. "Ayame's dad wasn't even _tired_."

"I've heard stories about him," Morgan said as she put the chairs in order. "Apparently as a student, he beat Mifune-sensei in a fight."

"What?" asked Cassie, looking over her shoulder with wide eyes. "He beat Teach?"

Morgan nodded solemnly, and Vayne let out a low whistle. "So much for wondering where Ayame gets it from," he said, leaning against the table.

Rei bent down to tie off the trash, wondering if he should bother adding to this conversation. He didn't particularly want to draw attention to himself and his family, but he found that he couldn't help it. He looked up grudgingly. "Ayame's parents were on the moon with mine," he said. "They helped fight the Kishin, way back when."

"They were our age, weren't they?" asked Cassie, pausing for a moment over the dirty counter. She reached out with her finger and drew the word 'CLEAN' on it in big block letters, the bits of food and gunk on it shrinking back in a circle around the word and leaving the counter spotless. She stared at the counter for a moment as if considering, then wiped her finger off on her jacket. "I can't even imagine."

"Hey, we're not too shabby," said Vayne. "Aren't we, Clark?"

"Huh?" asked Clark, looking up from the sink. "Uh-yeah."

"Still," said Cassie, clasping her hands together behind her back. "Ayame's mom was pretty awesome too, wasn't she? All sweet and…motherly. I kind of wish she was my mom."

Clark dropped the plate he was holding.

It broke as it landed in the sink, fracturing into three large pieces. The sound echoed in the kitchen, all conversation coming to a stop as the other four looked up, facing him.

"Clark…?" Rei asked.

"I'm sorry," said Clark, looking down at the plate. Rei noticed that his hands were shaking. "I'm—not feeling well. I'm going home."

He shut off the tap and, before anyone could stop him, wiped his hands on his pants and left. The four of them stood in stunned silence in the kitchen, exchanging a look with each other as the front door clicked closed behind him.

"Clark?" Vayne asked, staring at the door. He looked around at the others, meeting their eyes, then jogged out of the room. "Hey, wait up! Clark!"

The door opened and closed a second time, loud enough that Cori sat up, the blanket slipping off of her shoulders as she blinked at the door sleepily. "What happened?" she asked, her eyes on Rei.

Rei looked blankly at her. He didn't have an answer.

* * *

Vayne caught up to Clark less than a block away from Rei's apartment, jogging to a stop where he found Clark walking slowly down the darkened street. He caught his meister by the arm, turning Clark to face him.

"Hey, what was up with that?" he asked. "That was kind of rude, man."

Clark looked up at him, then shook his head, his hands stuffed into his pockets. He didn't meet Vayne's eyes. "Just leave it, Vayne," he said. "You wouldn't understand."

He stepped forward, trying to shrug out of Vayne's grip, but Vayne held fast, scowling at him. Anger flared up from somewhere deep inside of him, triggered by Clark's words.

"What? You think I wouldn't understand what it's like to have problems with your parents? _Me?!_ But you can't just storm out of Rei's house like that! Just because you don't get along so well with your own mother—."

"She's not my mom," said Clark softly, interrupting him.

Vayne blinked, loosening his grip a fraction. He looked at Clark, unsure that he had heard right. The anger faded as soon as it had come, and he stared at his meister dumbly. "Uh—what?"

"Nancy Greysteil isn't my mom," said Clark, tugging his arm out of Vayne's hold with surprising strength. He resumed walking down the street, and Vayne followed, not sure what else to do. "She's my stepmother. She and my dad were old friends. When my mom left…" He shrugged his shoulders, his eyes still on the street. "They got married a couple of years before Jason was born. She and Dad like it when I call her 'mom'."

"But if…" Vayne's mind raced, grasping at straws as he tried to put the pieces of the story together. Clark's mood, his problems with his family, the way he acted around girls, the way he had left Rei's apartment earlier. There was a story there somewhere, but Vayne couldn't see it. Or maybe…he thought, he didn't really _want_ to. "…But if she's not your mom, then who is?"

Clark looked over his shoulder, his hands still stuffed into the pocket of his jacket. There were tears in his eyes, gleaming behind his glasses. Vayne blinked at him, and then the story came together.

The students' suspicion, the interrogations…

The Paralyzing Wavelength.

"Oh," Vayne said, his eyes widening. "…Oh, _shit_."

* * *

Elaine slept in her chambers in a seldom-used corner of the castle, dwarfed by the bed that she lay in. She was wearing a nightgown now, her blond hair arrayed around her and her eyes closed, like a lady from a story. Her wound had been stitched together and bandaged, and the Magatama was finally beginning to release its hold on her, as if the gem had convinced itself that she would survive without its intervention.

She still hadn't woken up.

Micah stood over her, watching her, a frown on his face.

"Any change?" asked a voice from behind him.

He looked over his shoulder to see Mordred entering the room, closing the door carefully behind him. The sorcerer, Micah knew, had lived over a thousand years, well past the point when he should care about anyone, but he was quiet as he walked into the room, his expression solemn as he looked from Micah to Elaine.

There was something unreadable in his eyes. If Micah didn't know any better, he would have said that it was pity.

"None," he said, looking away. He'd done what he could for Elaine, but Shelley was the medic, not him. Even when he'd worked for the DWMA, his specialty had always been in development. What little medical knowledge he had picked up, he'd learned from her.

The thought of Shelley made something in his heart twist painfully and he looked away, clenching his fists behind his back where he hoped Mordred wouldn't see. Mordred watched him quietly, then turned back to consider Elaine.

"She will wake when she wakes," he said, after a long moment of silence. "I've come here for you."

"What—?" Micah asked, his eyes widening as he looked back at Mordred. Before he could complete the question, Mordred held his hand out, stopping him. Inside it, the sorcerer held a deck of cards. _His_ cards. Micah took it, frowning. He fanned the cards out, counting them. "This means…" he said, raising his eyes to Mordred.

Mordred nodded, not looking at him. "There's been a shift in forces on the other side," he said. "DWMA has recalled their warrior god. Our lady—my mother feels as though they know more than they ought. Keep those with you at all times. It won't be long until we strike."

* * *

**Omake**

_Some unspecified time in the future_

"Ayame-chan really seems to like it here," Tsubaki said, as she and Maka walked down the street, a few paces behind Black Star. "I'm glad to see she's adjusting well. She can be a little impulsive though…It's good that she has Rei-kun to calm her down a little."

"It's good for Rei too," Maka said. "She keeps him motivated. And I've noticed that she and Rei always have really cute packed lunches, Tsubaki-chan. They remind me of the ones you used to make. Did she learn that from you?"

Tsubaki blinked, frowning at her friend. "Maka-chan…" she said. "…Ayame can't even cook rice."

Maka stopped walking, her eyes widening slightly as she considered the implications of that. "Then…"

X

_Rei and Ayame's apartment_

Rei scowled as he reached into the rice cooker, shaping the rice between his hands into a roughly triangular shape. It had been a particularly stressful week after the incident with Ophelia, and he glanced at the evidence of it, at the various dishes and experimental concoctions that littered the kitchen.

"I may have a problem," he said.

"More rice balls please!" Ayame said, from her seat at the table, waving her empty plate at him with a grin.


	25. The Warrior God's Declaration; Time for Training!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always folks, thanks for your support! Couldn't keep doing this without you! Enjoy the chapter, and glad you like Black Star and Tsubaki!

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR**

**The Warrior God's Declaration; Time for Training!**

* * *

In any other school, a student going flying over the courtyard early in the morning might have been considered an exceptional event, but for the DWMA, it was just part of life. Students looked up to watch as the hapless combatant was flung bodily over their heads, vanishing somewhere over the horizon formed by the top of the school's infamous flight of stairs, then shrugged and went on with their business.

Ayame dusted her hands off from her place by the front door, looking over at the remainder of the group that had decided to pick a fight with her today. "Alright," she said. "Who's next?"

They scattered. Ayame sighed, picking her backpack up off the floor with one hand and slinging it over her back.

"Typical," she muttered under her breath, watching them go.

"You really don't have to do this," said Clark, looking over at her. "I appreciate it, but—."

"You're one of my friends," said Ayame, cutting him off. "I don't like people spreading rumors about my friends. Of course," she added, with an impatient glance over her shoulder, "if _Rei_ would help, we could clear this up so much quicker."

Rei shrugged from where he was leaning against the wall, his hands in the pockets of his uniform jacket. "You seem like you've got it," he said. "Besides, it's too early in the morning for this."

Ayame rolled her eyes, running a hand through her hair. "I wanted Sasuke and got Shikamaru," she muttered under her breath, her voice low enough that only the people directly around her could hear it.

Clark breathed hard through his nose, the only sign that he was amused. Morgan frowned, looking up from Ayame's other side. "I don't understand the reference," she said.

"I do," said Clark.

"Weeb," said Vayne, nudging him playfully in the side. The comment, which might have gotten a rise out of Clark a few weeks ago, did nothing now except to make Clark reach up and rub at his side. When Clark walked off without a rejoinder, joining the stream of students entering the building, even Rei looked concerned. He straightened up, exchanging looks with the others.

"Come on," Clark said, from a few feet ahead of them. "We should get to class."

They followed, uncertain looks on their faces as they trailed along behind him.

Rei hung back at the rear of the group, his hands in his pockets as he watched Clark. Clark had been like this for the past week, ever since Ophelia's death. It was perfectly understandable, but he knew that Clark's obvious depression had been starting to worry some of the others, and, if he was being honest with himself, it was starting to worry him as well.

He didn't know what else to do though, other than give Clark time.

They were all still grieving in their own way.

He exhaled, following the group through the doors of Class Moonless Night. And there he paused, blinking at the teacher. Maka was seated behind her desk, her head propped up on one arm and her eyes lowered. Her face was a pale color that bordered on gray, and there were dark circles under her eyes as if she hadn't slept.

"Keep it down," she snapped at the group of students that walked in behind them, laughing loudly. A second later, the bell rang and she winced.

"Hey, Rei," Ayame said, lingering behind the others to match his pace so that she could whisper to him. "Your mom doesn't look so good."

Rei grimaced, watching her. _Hungover,_ he thought, walking up the stairs to his seat. _Definitely hungover._

He refrained from pointing that out, though, reasonably certain that even hungover, his mother still had decent aim. Instead, he made a vague gesture in Ayame's direction, a promise to tell her later, and took his seat.

From his other side, Vayne snickered, his eyes on the front of the room.

"Looks like _they_ had fun last night," he said.

Her gradebook flew up through the stands, the spine striking Vayne squarely between the eyes. Rei winced in sympathy as Vayne went rigid, the book falling to the desk in front of him and leaving a red mark in its place.

She _definitely_ still had good aim.

"Alright," Maka said, standing up and placing both her hands on the desk like she needed them to support her weight. She drew in a breath, as if gathering up her strength, and then launched into a quick speech. "We're going to be doing things a little differently today. The DWMA is primarily focused on the bond between weapon and meister, but in light of recent events, we feel that it's important for you to learn how to stand on your own, in case you find yourself separated from your partners. So today, you'll be working with some guest instructors. Go out to the courtyard and follow instructions from there."

She fell silent, her eyes on the students. There was a moment of uncomfortable silence in the classroom before people started getting up, making their ways back down to the door. Rei was one of the last people to leave, and he saw Maka slump forward out of the corner of his eye, leaning against her desk with a groan.

He hurried to catch up with Ayame and the others.

"I wonder who the guest instructors are," Cassie said, as they approached the courtyard.

Ayame let her eyes trail up to the ceiling, then blinked, eyes widening as she looked back at Rei. "You don't think…"

"Hey, Ayame! Rei! Great to see you again!"

"Hey!" said Ayame, waving. "It's Mom and Dad! Hi Dad!"

Black Star grinned at them as they emerged into the sunlight, standing next to Tsubaki. Tsubaki smiled, gesturing for the growing crowd of students to form a half-circle around them. Unlike his mother, neither of them seemed affected by their night out. Once the whole class was gathered in the courtyard, Black Star turned to face them, grinning.

"Alright kids, listen up!" he said. "I'm Black Star, DWMA's strongest warrior! You might have heard of me. This is my partner, Tsubaki. She's pretty awesome too—" He paused to glance back at her, giving her a quick smile which Tsubaki returned. "—We do Special Missions, which is a really boring way of saying we take on all the _best_ jobs. So you know, we're basically experts at what we do, and today we're gonna try and whip you into shape. Any questions?" A few nascent murmurs started among the group at that, but before anyone could actually get a word in, Black Star clapped his hands, still grinning. "Great! Weapons with Tsubaki, meisters with me. Let's get this show on the road!"

Before anyone could say anything, he walked forward, making his way towards the steps that led back down into the city.

Rei looked from him to the others, feeling a little uncertain. His nerves weren't helped by the grin Ayame flashed him as she peeled away, walking towards her mother with Cassie trailing along behind her. Vayne clapped him on the shoulder and left as well, leaving him alone with Clark and Morgan.

The three of them exchanged glances, watching as Black Star began to walk down the steps, trailed by a handful of uncertain looking meisters. Clark still seemed unaffected by everything around him, his eyes on the middle distance and his hands in his pocket, and Morgan stared ahead coolly, drawing herself up to her full height before starting to walk. Neither of them seemed to share his concerns.

With a sigh, Rei followed.

* * *

Black Star led them out into the desert, far enough away from the city that the nearest landmark that Rei could see was the raised structure of the DWMA, dominating the horizon behind them. He drew to a grateful stop, loosening his tie and wiping the sweat off of his forehead with the back of his head. The sun was merciless out here, and he found himself wishing for the cool shade of the training forest, where he had seen Tsubaki and the weapons heading.

He stuffed his hands into his pockets, trying to ignore the searing heat. It would be alright, he told himself. It wasn't as if he hadn't trained here before.

Black Star clapped his hands to get their attention, turning to face them. "Today, I'm gonna teach you how to fight," he said, grinning. "But I'm not gonna stand here and talk about it. Fighting is the kind of thing you have to learn by _doing_ , so we're gonna dive right into it. Last one standing wins. Any questions?"

Beside Rei, Clark adjusted his glasses with one hand, raising the other. He didn't look up at Black Star, keeping his eyes on the ground. Black Star pointed at him, drawing the attention of everyone else in the class.

"You!" he barked. "Four-eyes!"

There was a piece of paper clutched in his upraised hand, and Clark held it out to Black Star. "Um…I have a doctor's note."

"Oh, you do?" asked Black Star, walking over to him. The crowd of students parted, making way. "Let me see that."

Clark wordlessly handed the note over. Black Star snatched it out of Clark's hand, turning around and reading it quickly. "Hmm…let's see…madness…triggered by competition...yeah, yeah, whatever. You don't need this." Before Clark could react, he tore the note to shreds, the pieces scattering against the desert floor. Clark gaped at him, openmouthed, and Black Star dusted off his hands, shaking the last few shreds to the breeze and looking back over his shoulder at him.

Black Star grinned. "No excuses," he said.

"B-But—," Clark began, his glasses askew.

"I said, no excuses. You too, princess. Up and at 'em." Black Star's eyes moved away from Clark, landing on Morgan, who had taken her seat beside a rock, a frilly black parasol open above her to keep off the sun. She had her legs tucked beneath herself, a book across her lap. Morgan looked up at the sound of the voice, raising dark eyes to Black Star's. She watched him from under the curtain of her hair.

"No," she said.

"No?" Black Star asked.

"No," said Morgan, looking back at her book. "Not interested."

She flipped the page. The silence that followed was deep enough to hear a pin drop as, behind Black Star, the meisters of Class Moonless Night held their breath. Black Star watched Morgan for a long moment, as if taking her measure, then abruptly turned around, a grin on his face.

"Okay," he said.

"Okay?" Clark repeated, staring at Black Star.

"Yep," said Black Star, walking off. "Okay."

"Wait a minute!" said Clark. "How come she gets to skip out and I—?"

Clark broke off abruptly, interrupted by Black Star reaching out and grabbing him by the shoulder. The older man loomed over him, eyes narrowed, his forehead almost bumping into Clark's. "Because I said it was okay," he said. "Got that?"

Clark stared at him, wide-eyed, and nodded slowly. Black Star released him and stepped away, the grin back on his face. Behind him, Clark reached up and rubbed at his shoulder, watching Black Star with wide eyes.

The warrior walked back to the front of the group, looking over at them. "Anyone else have any issues?" he asked. No one spoke, each of them staring at him. "Great! Let's get started! Here's the catch though…" He paused, looking over each of them in turn. "I'm going to play too. So if you guys want to pass today's class, I suggest you get together and fight me seriously. Everyone understand? Good! Let's begin!"

* * *

Ayame drew to a stop at the end of her drill, looking up at the sky through the branches of the tree above her. It was cool in the training forest, the shade providing some measure of relief from the sun, but she didn't particularly _feel_ relieved. She let her arms shift back into human form, half-listening as her mother walked around and lectured some of the others on how to best use their weapon form abilities. It was a lecture she had heard a thousand times, and at the moment, she didn't really want to hear it again.

"Ayame-chan?" Tsubaki asked, drawing her out of her thoughts. Her mother's voice was closer than Ayame thought it would be and she jumped, looking over her shoulder. Tsubaki smiled at her, but there was concern in her eyes. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Ayame said, shooting the sky one last look before turning back towards Tsubaki. "Just thinking."

"You aren't paying attention," Tsubaki pointed out.

Ayame shrugged. "I've learned it all before," she said. "I already know how to fight on my own, Mom."

"Then why do you look so worried?"

"I…" Ayame opened her mouth to say that she wasn't and promptly closed it again, looking away. She didn't know how to express it, the sudden tight knot in her chest. It felt wrong to be out here, training on her own. She'd done it before. She was good at it. But…"Do you think it's alright…?" she asked, not quite looking at her mother. "Leaving Rei alone with Dad like that?"

Tsubaki said nothing, but Ayame could feel her eyes on her. She grit her teeth, clenching her hands into fists. Ayame was terrible with feelings, both other people's and her own. "I mean, I just—we've been training, okay? And he's been working hard, but he's still—he's—."

"Ayame-chan…" Tsubaki's hand on hers was gentle, drawing Ayame slowly back towards her. Ayame looked back at her mother reluctantly, feeling the heat start to rise to her face, but Tsubaki only gave her a knowing smile. "Don't you trust your partner?"

"Of course I do," Ayame said. "I trust Rei—I just don't know—without me—." Her mind raced through a series of terrible images—seeing four missed calls from Rei's father on the eve of their first tournament final, seeing Rei on that bed in the dispensary, seeing that picture of Ophelia placed up at her memorial. The knot in her chest tightened, and for a moment, she couldn't breathe.

"Ayame-chan," said Tsubaki more firmly, squeezing Ayame's hand lightly. Ayame looked up at her, eyes wide. "Trust is the most important thing you can have between partners, both when you're fighting together, and when you're fighting alone." Tsubaki reached up, still smiling, and laid her hand lightly on Ayame's cheek, cupping the side of her face. Ayame stared at her, mouth open as if she didn't know what to say. "You're right. You're very good at being on your own, Ayame-chan. You've always been. I think that Rei-kun knows and sees that. And I also think that, in his own way, he's trying to catch up to you. He's not the type of person to want to stand next to you until he believes he can. _Trust_ him."

She let her hand fall away from Ayame's cheek, letting it rest on her shoulder. Tsubaki smiled, tilting her head slightly to the side. "Okay?"

Ayame exhaled, then forced herself to unclench her fists, drawing in a deep breath. She looked past her mother at the group of weapons behind her, at Vayne and Cassie watching her now, Vayne's arms still transformed into blades and Cassie with her hand up and her mouth open like she had been speaking.

She looked back at her mother and nodded, bringing one of her hands up to her shoulder to cover Tsubaki's.

"Okay."

* * *

"Hey, come on! Step it up! Are you even trying?"

Rei scowled, raising his hands and striking at Black Star in quick succession. The blue-haired meister moved out of the way of his strikes effortlessly, a grin on his face as he continued to taunt Rei. It was like trying to strike at the air. The very loud, very powerful air.

"Come on, is this the best you can do?" Black Star asked, ducking beneath a swipe at his head. He pressed the palm of his hand into Rei's torso, the return strike forceful but not hard. It was surprisingly controlled, enough to drive Rei back but not enough to bruise or take him out of the fight. He grunted as he leaped back, landing on his feet and trying to circle around to find an opening.

"I'm not impressed, Rei," said Black Star, turning around in place and keeping his eyes on Rei. He was still grinning. Black Star raised his arm, calmly and effortlessly blocking Rei's strike towards his neck, then skipped backwards, avoiding Rei's sweep at his ankles. Rei growled in frustration. "A meister needs to take center stage! Can't let your weapon do all the work!" He caught Rei's knee with one hand as Rei attempted to knee him in the chest, holding him place and keeping him off-balance as he leaned in. His grin widened. "And you've got a pretty awesome weapon. I should know. I made her myself."

He kicked Rei in the side, hard enough to send him flying, then spun around quickly to deal with the students attacking him from behind. Rei landed hard on the desert floor, the impact jarring him as he skidded backwards against the packed earth, kicking up a cloud of dirt and sand. He grit his teeth tightly in frustration and pain, his fingers digging furrows in the dirt as he clenched his right hand into a fist.

"Don't you think I _know_ that?!" Rei yelled, jumping to his feet. He ran towards Black Star, shrugging off his uniform jacket.

Rei tossed the jacket at Black Star as the older man turned back towards him, hoping that the distraction would buy him a little bit of time. He leaped to the side as soon as the jacket flew, obscuring Black Star's view, and came at him at an angle, slipping off his tie. He wrapped the fabric tight around both of his knuckles, forming a makeshift garrote as he ran at Black Star from the side, his eyes narrowed as he moved to slip his hands over Black Star's head.

Black Star held still until the last moment before Rei ran into him, then turned to face him, that grin appearing on his face again. He ducked beneath Rei's grab, then rose up sharply, suddenly inside Rei's range. Black Star swiped his hand backwards through the tie, forcing Rei to loosen his grip with one hand, then grabbed at Rei's shoulder with the other, pulling him closer to him.

"Good," Black Star said. "Just like that."

Then he kneed Rei in the chest _hard_ , hard enough to make him see stars. Rei's eyes widened as the blow knocked the wind out of him, his vision blurring for a moment as he crashed back into the earth. He tried to sit up at the sound of shouting coming from the group of meisters, but Black Star's outstretched hand stopped him, the older man standing in front of him and looking back at the group.

"Nah, stay down," Black Star said, looking over his shoulder at him. "I've got this."

Rei remained where he sat, gasping for breath as Black Star charged forward, into the group. Now that his vision was clearing, he could see Clark standing in the center of a group of outraged meisters, another meister on the ground in front of him as he whirled, charging on a second. As Clark turned, he flung his glasses off of his face carelessly, letting them bounce across the dirt.

Black Star grabbed his wrist as Clark's hand sailed through the air, stopping the strike an inch before it connected. He tightened his grip, his soul wavelength crackling around him as he faced Clark, still grinning.

"Hey," he said, his wavelength expanding to fill the air around him. "Attacking your own teammates isn't cool, you know." Before Clark could react, Black Star shoved him backwards by his wrist with enough force to make him stumble. "If you have that much energy," Black Star said, "you can take on me."

Clark quickly righted himself, his eyes narrowed. Rei's vision wavered as Clark's wavelength flared up, his Soul Perception mingling with his normal vision so that he could see Clark's soul expanding, suffusing his body. Electricity arced around Clark's soul, lines of white tearing through his soul's usual light blue. The light changed him somehow, turning him into someone else, someone Rei had only glimpsed once before, in that spar in their first year when Clark had fought Ayame.

Before he could get a better look at Clark, he was already moving, darting forward. He ducked beneath Black Star's outstretched arm, aiming an elbow strike at the warrior's chest. Black Star moved back with the movement, keeping pace with Clark so that Clark's strike never actually connected with him, then glided effortlessly to the side, swinging his foot up and kicking at Clark from behind. His leg connected with the small of Clark's back, sending him pitching forward, but Clark quickly turned his fall into a roll, getting back up to his feet.

He launched himself at Black Star without pausing, his eyes narrowing and his lip pulled back in a snarl. Sweat and dust made his hair cling to his face, hanging just over his eyes. The white streaks in his wavelength grew and spread like electricity, overtaking the blue as he launched into a series of connected strikes, palm strikes transitioning into elbow strikes transitioning into knees as he tested Black Star's defenses, trying to find an opening. Black Star swatted his attacks aside, twisting and turning just out of reach, and with each missed attack, Rei could see Clark growing more frustrated, could see his wavelength becoming more savage, the jagged edges of that strange wavelength beating at the fringes of Rei's Soul Perception.

His heart beat faster, his eyes wide. Adrenaline surged through his veins, his fingers digging furrows into the dirt where he sat. He could _hear_ that wavelength, a high-pitched keening noise that rang in the air. It wasn't music, wasn't a note. It was something disconnected and discordant, like white noise or radio static, like the jarring screech of microphone feedback. In contrast to Clark's, Black Star's wavelength continued to expand, beating out a steady rhythm, a controlled pulse that told Rei that he was consciously holding back. That even with Clark unleashing everything he had, going all out, Black Star was still holding back.

He wasn't sure which of them scared him more.

The halo of white that surrounded Clark's soul grew, swallowing the last bit of blue. Power flooded him at once as he leaped back, his eyes narrowing dangerously. Rei saw electricity arc from Clark's soul to his fingertips, pooling at the tips of his fingers as he turned to Black Star. A wave of killing intent emanated from Clark suddenly, so strong that he felt it almost as a physical breeze. His breath caught in his throat and he started to scramble to his feet, opening his mouth to call out.

A hand on his wrist stopped him, pulling him back. Rei looked over his shoulder, eyes still wide, and saw Morgan crouching beside him, holding onto him. She wasn't looking at him, her eyes on Black Star and Clark. Her grip tightened.

"Watch," she said. "Don't interfere."

Easy for her to say. Rei stared at Clark, feeling his mouth go dry as Clark charged forward, raising his hands, the bolts of lightning that connected his fingertips to his soul building up, getting ready to fire.

Black Star stood there for a moment, watching Clark. And then his soul wavelength exploded.

Or at least, Rei felt it as an explosion, a sudden burst of light and sound that left him blinded and his ears ringing. He blinked light out of his eyes and coughed sand out of his mouth, his eyes still on Black Star. The light cleared, revealing a soul wavelength that towered over the rest of them, strong enough and heavy enough to crush the earth beneath him, to form a crater around him from force of will alone. He charged forward, and that wavelength traveled into his hand, into five fingers as he formed a claw with his left hand, dodging Clark's first strike.

He thrust that claw at Clark's middle, the world stopping for an instant as they connected.

Then Black Star's wavelength shot out from his hand like a cannon, strong enough to throw Clark into the air, over their heads, and into the nearest rock formation. Clark struck the rock hard enough to crack it, dust rising in a cloud around him, and Black Star straightened up, shaking out his hand. Rei saw sparks of leftover energy leaving him as he shook out his fingers, and realized that even then, Black Star had been holding back.

Sound returned, but Rei hardly noticed because it was so silent. Clark slid to the ground beneath the rock, landing face down, and Black Star walked over to him through the crowd of stunned students, flipping him over. Clark was staring up at the sky, his eyes unfocused and mouth open, but as soon as he saw Black Star, his eyes widened. His wavelength cleared, the jagged white retreating from over light blue, and his eyes watered. He grit his teeth as he tried to sit up. Black Star stood over him, grabbing onto his hair and pulling his head up slightly so that he could look into his eyes.

He wasn't grinning anymore.

"I'm only going to say this once," Black Star said, "because I don't like it when I sound like Mifune. That thing inside of you—"—he paused to jab at Clark's chest with one thumb—"—it wants to be the strongest, and right now, you're letting it run the show. If you don't control it, it's going to control you. And no, running away from fights doesn't count. Because someday, there'll be a fight you can't run away from. And if you can't control it then, you're gonna lose everything. But…if you really can't help yourself, I'm gonna save you the trouble. The strongest person in the world is me. So if you get in that mood, don't bother with the small fry. Just come straight at me. I'll take you down every time."

The grin appeared on his face again as he released Clark's hair, letting him slide back down to the ground. He didn't move, staring up at the sky with wide eyes as Black Star stepped over him, turning back to the rest of the students.

"What?" he said. "Show's not over yet. If you're still standing, then get back in the game! I'm not finished with you!"

* * *

"I can't believe your mom cooked us lunch!" Cassie said as they walked to school the next day, carrying a pale pink bento box. Morgan walked beside her, carrying an identical box coated in black lacquer. She had her head down and a scowl on her face, her skin a painful looking red from their trip to the desert.

"I know, right?" said Ayame, grinning. "I told her she didn't have to—the cafeteria's _awesome_ —but she said she was making up for lost time."

"And she's taking us shopping later _too_?" Cassie asked, smiling. "She really _is_ the best!"

Rei walked beside her, wincing at the dull ache in his chest from yesterday's training session. He placed his hand over the bruise, rubbing at it lightly through his uniform and walking a little quicker to catch up to Ayame.

Clark broke off from the group, trailing along behind them. Rei paused, looking over his shoulder. Clark had been beaten up fairly badly yesterday, and bandages peeked out from under his shirt where they had been wound tightly around his chest. There was a purplish bruise spreading across the side of his cheek, and his glasses were held together at the nose by tape. One of his hands was clasped around the strap of his bag, the other holding on to a pale yellow bento.

He looked down at the ground, his expression distant. Rei opened his mouth to speak, but Vayne stopped him, extending a hand back towards him as he continued to watch Clark. Rei frowned, but said nothing, letting Vayne take the lead.

"Hey, Clark," Vayne said. "You okay?"

Clark stared down at the ground, looking miserable for a moment. Then, as if gathering his resolve, he drew in a deep breath, his shoulders heaving with the motion. He straightened up, tightening his grip on the strap of his messenger bag. "Yeah," he said, meeting their eyes. "I'm okay."

There was a pause, during which all of them watched him. Rei looked into his eyes, but all of the madness from yesterday was gone, replaced only by what looked like a profound regret and a new resolution. It was a little bit like the Clark he had known before, back before the horrible night of the Anniversary Ball. Clark stepped forward, rejoining the group, and Rei nodded in acknowledgment, continuing to walk.

They had almost made it to the top of the stairs before the jeering started. A boy appeared at the top of the stairs, his weapon already transformed and in hand, a wicked sword that seemed to extend backwards along his arm to the elbow. He looked older than they did, probably an upperclassman.

"You might have everyone else fooled, murderer, but you're not fooling me!" the boy said, his eyes on Clark. "Get out of this school!"

Ayame bristled from behind Rei, clenching her hands into fists and starting to stride up the stairs. Rei stopped her before she could pass him, extending a hand out to the side. He kept his eyes on the boy.

Ayame blinked, looking over at him with wide eyes from behind his outstretched arm. "Rei, what the heck?!" she asked, outraged. "You heard what he said!"

"Yeah," said Rei. "I heard." He glanced at her, then slowly turned his hand over so that he was extending it to her, palm up. At the top of the stairs, the other meister took a step back, his eyes widening.

Ayame stared, looking from him to his hand. "Are you sure?" she asked.

He nodded, not taking his eyes off of the other meister. "We're partners, right?"

There was a pause, a single moment in time that felt like a lifetime as Ayame watched him, staring at him as if she didn't believe that he was truly there. Then she reached for his hand.

"Right!" she said, a grin appearing on her face.

She transformed in a flash of light.

* * *

The staff meeting was held in the early morning, before the school even opened for the day. DWMA's faculty and assorted staff gathered in two half-circles around the desk in the middle of the Death Room, their eyes on Kid. From the second row back, Maka reached for Soul's hand, gripping it tightly. It had been her father, Mifune and Sid that had called this meeting, and she knew without even being told that it was because of that thing, that secret that they had all caught glimpses of but that had never been brought out into the open.

Kid's response was to turn towards Spirit expectantly, a frown on his face. "Well?" he asked. "I'm assuming you called us all here for a reason."

"Uh—of course, Shinigami-sama." Spirit coughed into his fist, straightening out his tie and glancing back at Mifune and Sid, as if asking them for support. Neither of them stepped forward to stand with him, so he moved towards Kid, holding out a file folder in both hands. "There—uh—there are some things you need to know," he said. "We apologize for keeping this from you, but I'm sure when you read that, you'll understand why."

Kid narrowed his eyes, his expression skeptical, but he took the folder from Spirit anyway, flipping through it. As he read, his eyes widened, and Maka craned her neck to try and catch a glimpse of what was on the page, wishing now more than ever that she was standing behind him. He flipped the folder back to the beginning, reading over everything one last time, the sound of rustling pages filling the room.

When he looked back up at Spirit, his expression was serious. "I'm not pleased that you went behind my back, but I understand why you had to," he said. "We'll begin preparations at on—."

"What, that's it?!" shouted Black Star loudly, interrupting him. Before Kid could react, Black Star strode forward, snatching the folder out of Kid's grasp. "You called us all here to give him a _file_?! What's in here anyway?"

"Black Star!" said Kid loudly, grabbing at the folder with both hands. "Give that back!"

Black Star placed a hand on Kid's face, keeping him at bay as he shook out the folder with the other, reading through it. "Let's see…what's this say…?" He read through it quickly, pausing as soon as he reached the end. He blinked, loosening his grip on Kid for a second.

"You get it?" Kid asked, straining to reach for the folder. "You get it, don't you? It's very important that you don't say any— _mmph_!"

"Shut up," said Black Star, shoving Kid away with a little more force. "Lemme read it again." He looked over the folder, moving his mouth with the words, then paused as he reached the end, looking up at the others with wide eyes. "Wait, _that's_ what you're all worried about?!" his eyes on Spirit. Before anyone could respond, he threw back his head and started to laugh.

"BLACK STAR!" Kid said more emphatically. Black Star released him, letting the folder clatter to the ground. He continued to laugh, resting his hands on his waist.

"All this secrecy just because you're scared of the _Morrigan_?!" he asked, laughing again. "Man, you guys are pathetic! I'm here now. There's no way some bird lady is going to scare me!" He looked up at the Death Room's endless ceiling, raising his fist to it. "You hear me, Morrigan? Go ahead and attack! We're not afraid of you! Come on!"

An explosion sounded from outside, rattling the building. Black Star blinked, staring up at the ceiling with wide eyes. Somewhere in the distance, an alarm began to sound.

Kid slapped his hand to his face, gritting his teeth.

"Black…Star…" he said, the words coming out in a hiss.

* * *

**Omake**

"Hey, um…Mom?" Rei asked, lingering back behind the others as they left the classroom for the day. "I have a question."

"Yes, Rei?" Maka said, looking back at him.

"Well, it's about Soul Perception," said Rei, scratching at the back of his head as he glanced down at the ground. "I mean, I know about _seeing_ souls and all that, but…um…do you _hear_ them too? Or is that just…" He trailed off. Maka blinked, watching him, then giggled into her hand, reaching out and kissing him on the top of the head.

Rei tensed, quickly looking around to see if anyone saw as he pulled away from her, fixing his hair. "What was that for?!"

"Ask your father," Maka said, heading for the door.

 


	26. The First Attack Pt. 1; Battle over Death City!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're entering into another arc here. I think this one will take a few chapters, probably three or four, and then things will really start moving in earnest~ Hope you guys enjoy it!

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE**

**The First Attack Pt. 1; Battle over Death City!**

* * *

Death City's graveyard was quiet that morning, the only sound coming from the ravens that perched on the wrought-iron fence that surrounded the perimeter, cawing softly to each other. At night, with the fog and the tombstones and statues leering from the sides of the path, the place was sinister, but in the full light of day it was only quiet. Contemplative, as if the very air was aware of the weight that this place bore. Death City might have been the city inhabited by Death himself, fascinated in many ways by the eerie and the macabre, but it was still wearying when any of its people had to die.

Shelley Stein, moving quietly through the tombstones in the morning with a bouquet of white flowers, wondered not for the first time whether they couldn't have found somewhere else to lay Luna to rest. She was the sort of person who deserved life and light, the sort of person who would have been happier somewhere else that wasn't this dark, foreboding place—beneath the boughs of the trees in the training forest, perhaps, or somewhere where she could look out over the school, somewhere where she could have the place all to herself and not have to share it with the weight of countless centuries of death and war and misery. She couldn't help but feel like they could have done a little better for her, in that regard.

Of course, it was a stupid thought. Luna didn't actually care about that. She was dead. She didn't care about anything anymore.

Her frown deepened as she made her way past the gravestones, pausing for a moment to lay a single white flower on the graveyard's newest grave, the one set aside for Ophelia, before continuing her grim pilgrimage. It didn't matter, in the end, that she was here, but Shelley visited anyway on the off-chance that it did. If the previous Shinigami-sama had known anything about an afterlife, he hadn't mentioned it, but Shelley was just scientist enough to know that it was impossible to prove a non-existence.

If a little voice in the back of her mind whispered that she was doing this for herself, that even if Luna really was watching her right now, Luna wouldn't want her to torture herself, she pushed that back down, tightening her grip on the flowers in her hand.

They tumbled to the ground when she reached Luna's grave and saw that she wasn't alone.

Micah stood standing in front of Luna's tombstone, his expression oddly repentant. She stared at him, her eyes widening, and an odd feeling passed over her like cold water, a sensation that sent her skin crawling and made her question her reality. He looked almost the same as he had two years ago, the last time she had seen him, and for an instant, she forgot to hate him. For a single instant, her heart leaped, butterflies coming to life in her stomach before she remembered what he had done and hated herself for it. He looked up at her, his mouth curling up in the same sheepish smile she recognized, the expression of a man who had been caught looking through her research notes without permission, that of the boy she had once caught copying her homework.

She hated him. She couldn'thate him.

She wanted to be sick.

Her hands clenched into fists at her side, so hard that her knuckles went white, but she couldn't stop them from shaking. "How _dare_ you?" she asked, her voice deceptively soft and shaking with rage. "You don't have any right to be here. Not after what you did."

"Is that the only thing you have to say to me, Shell?" Micah asked. "After all we've been through?"

"You don't get to _talk_ about what we've _been through!"_ Shelley said, louder this time. She took a step towards him, gesturing angrily with one arm. "You don't get to _talk_ about—!"

Tears. They stung at her eyes, blurring her vision. The sensation struck her, bringing her back to reality, to the reality where Luna was dead and Micah was a fugitive and she was a representative of the DWMA who didn't need to be standing here hashing out past sins, not when there were more important things to consider. She sucked in a breath as if that would calm her, blinked tears out of her eyes rather than reaching behind her glasses to wipe them off in a way that would show him how much she was affecting her.

The fingers of the hand that she had swung out to her side shifted, each digit becoming a long, thin, scalpel-like blade. "Why are you here?" she asked. "Talk. _Now."_

Micah's eyes drifted from her face to her hand, to the blades that gleamed in the sunlight, then back to her face again. He sighed, a long-suffering sigh as if he had been expecting this behavior from her but had been hoping that he could get around it. "Really, Shelley?" he asked. "I don't want to fight you here. Not in front of her." He looked away, as if to say that enough blood had been spilled over this already.

She wanted to kill him, she wanted to kiss him, she wanted to cry. She was so angry that she couldn't think straight. She didn't know what she wanted to do. But her eyes drifted from him to Luna's grave and she knew that despite everything, despite all that had happened between them, he was right. She didn't _want_ to fight him here. Lack of proof in the afterlife be damned, she didn't _want_ to do this in front of Luna.

Slowly, as if it pained her, she turned her hand so that her fingers were pointing down, letting them shift back into their human shape. She straightened up, lowering her hands back to her side, but kept her eyes on the ground.

"Get out," she said.

"Didn't you want to know why I was here?" Micah asked.

"I don't _care_!" she said. "Get out. Before I change my mind."

Micah watched her for a moment, then shook his head, as if amazed at what he saw there. "You haven't changed," he said. "So self-righteous. You'll sacrifice anything, won't you, as long as it keeps the world exactly the way you want it?"

The idea was so absurd that Shelley wanted to laugh, wanted to cry at how twisted around things had gotten between them. "You _killed_ Luna!" she said. "You _murdered_ your partner! I'm sorry, Micah, but how _exactly_ did you expect me to react? In what _universe_ was what I did wrong?!"

"We were going to change the world!" Micah said, anger in his voice now. "We were on the cusp of discovery, and you threw it all away! Whatever happened to 'us against the world', Shell?"

"I don't know!" Shelley said. "You tell me!" She was aware that she was screeching, shouting at him so loud that she was sure people could hear her from the street, was aware that she was alarmingly close to crying, but she didn't care. "I never wanted—I didn't want—"

"I didn't want to do it!" Micah said, interrupting her. His eyes were wide, as if he was trying to convince her of what he was saying, as if he wanted nothing more than to have her believe him. There were tears in them too, and the sight of them would have made Shelley's heart break if it hadn't already been broken. "I didn't want to do it, Shell. It was the only way…"

"You think that makes it better? You think that makes what you did any less unforgivable, you traitorous son of a—"

"No. I don't." He seemed to have gained back some measure of his self-control, drawing in a deep breath and pulling himself up to his full height again. When he next spoke, his voice was hard. "I don't think that makes it better. But neither does that excuse what _you_ did."

"I did my duty," she said. "I did what I had to." She could feel herself retreat, could hear the coldness seeping into her voice. Her hands closed into fists at her side again, but this time, they didn't shake. She was too controlled for that now. "I'd do it again."

"Then," Micah said, watching her, "it appears we have nothing more to say to each other."

"It appears so."

He shook his head, reaching into the inside pocket of his coat. "For what it's worth, Shell, I really wish things could have turned out different."

Before she could respond, an explosion rang out, one powerful enough to shake the ground beneath her. Her eyes widened and she whirled around in the direction of the DWMA's headquarters, where the building rose above the city. Smoke poured from a gaping hole in one of the building's top floors. As she watched, shadows rose, dark forms swirling around the building like crows. The shock of the sight took her breath away, so that for a moment she forgot where she was and who she was with. Then she remembered and whirled back around to face Micah.

He had a card in his hand, the face turned towards her so that she could see it. The Chariot. He held her gaze as he tossed it to the ground, the card beginning to glow.

"That's my cue," he said. "I'm sure we'll see each other very soon."

"Wait!" Shelley said, extending a hand towards him.

A flash of light swallowed him up and he was gone.

* * *

The explosion shook the school, rattling the ceiling of the Death Room. Kid looked up at that false sky as the school rocked, eyes wide as around him, several of the DWMA's staff let out cries of alarm.

"What's going on outside?" he demanded, turning towards the people gathered at his left. "Hestia!"

Hestia, a young red-headed woman who had recently risen through the ranks of DWMA's security forces, stepped away from the group of people arrayed around Mifune, fiddling with a device strapped to her arm. "Sir!" she said. "It looks like a powerful source of energy has suddenly appeared in the sky over the school. They're firing at us. The upper levels have taken structural damage."

"She's right," Ox said, tapping at something on the screen of his phone. "We're under attack!"

"That's a Witch's Soul Response!" said Maka, her eyes wide as she looked up at the ceiling. Overhead, the shaking continued, the sounds of muffled screams beginning to ring out through the room from the courtyard.

"So it is," said Kid, feeling the power of the Witch's Soul through his own Soul Perception. His eyes narrowed, his hands clenching into fists. Next to him, Black Star looked up at the ceiling, an expression of mild surprise on his face. As Kid watched, he grinned in understanding.

"Huh," he said. "She's got guts. This might be fun."

Kid frowned at him, unamused. "When this is over, I'm going to execute you," he said, flatly.

Black Star's grin widened, the warrior settling into a crouch. "You can try," he said. "Tsubaki!"

"Right!" said Tsubaki, transforming in a flash of light. Black Star grabbed onto the light as it streaked towards him, not even waiting for her to transform fully before rushing out the door.

"Dammit, Black Star!" Kid swore. He swept his arm out in a wide gesture over the security forces, straightening up. "Secure the school! Get the students to safety! Liz! Patty!"

All around him, people nodded and voiced their assent, the sounds of weapons transforming ringing out through the large room. At his word, Liz straightened up and nodded, becoming a comfortable weight in his right hand as, on his left side, Patty did the same, a grin on her face. He spun the guns around twice in his hands, then ran from the room, following his people out into the courtyard.

* * *

Rei clashed with his opponent once, twice, a third time, Ayame's ninjato form clutched tight in his left hand, the short blade clanging as it met and deflected strikes from the older student's sword. His opponent's brow furrowed, sword moving as he tried to strike at Rei again. Rei deflected the strike with his own, eyes narrowed in concentration.

The other student was good, but he'd been expecting to fight Ayame. It showed in the way he fought, in his confusion as Rei deflected his blows, his own blade barely there. He'd been expecting someone to fight him directly, had probably stayed in the crowd for the past couple of weeks as Ayame defeated opponent after opponent, watching her, studying her reactions and the ins and outs of her particular fighting style. He probably would _still_ have had trouble against Ayame, but at least he would have been prepared.

Rei's fighting style was completely different. He pushed just far enough to give the other student something to push back _against_ , just enough force to make his opponent believe that he was committed to this forward assault, with enough inconsistencies to keep him guessing. Why use a short blade, something he could only grip with one hand, against a long sword? Why keep it in his off-hand, while his dominant hand dangled to the side, useless? Those questions would burn in his mind, keeping him distracted by the fight, until…

He lifted his eyes from Rei's own, drifting towards their crossed blades, towards Rei's right hand. An opening.

Rei lunged in with his right foot, keeping Ayame's ninjatoform right where it was as he moved forward, holding his right hand so that it was parallel with his opponent's side. Then he opened his hand, fingers forming the signal Ayame would have been waiting for. In her soul space, she grinned, the ninjatoin Rei's left hand dissolving into a flash of light. The light streamed towards Rei's right hand, reforming the ninjato there.

His opponent's eyes widened as the resistance vanished, his own sword crashing down, but Rei had left that space light-years ago, the sword slicing through empty air. He squeezed Ayame's hilt once, a silent signal to dull her blade if she hadn't already, and spun around, swinging his hand upwards to score a deep slash across his opponent's unprotected side.

Sharpened, the dagger would have cut to the bone. Dull as it was, the blow still knocked the older student off his feet, forcing him to leap to the side to keep his balance. Rei finished his own leap, spinning to face him. The older student was clutching at his side with his free hand, the curve of his sword gleaming wickedly in the morning sun. "Bastard," he hissed at Rei.

Rei shrugged, keeping his grip on Ayame's ninjato blade reversed as he sank down into a crouch, holding his hand up in front of his face so that the blade was parallel to his arm, tip pointing towards his elbow. It was a defensive stance, about as defensive as it was possible to get with the ninjato. It was an invitation to attack, and his opponent seized it, gripping his weapon's hilt tight in his hand as he leaped forward and whirled, the curved blade slicing through the air towards Rei.

Rei unfolded, blocking the strike with his ninjato as he darted forward, angled towards his opponent's side. His mind raced, cycling through plans and strategies as he met his opponent's eyes over their crossed blades.

_Ninjato,_ he thought, remembering the notes he had made during his and Ayame's training, _short-ranged, good for offense, poor defensively._

He ducked beneath his opponent's blade, the short blade sliding out from underneath it as he continued to move past. He tapped out a quick rhythm across Ayame's hilt, the blade shooting out and extending into her katana form.

_Katana. Slightly longer range. Good offensively and defensively._

The dulled blade of Ayame's katana form smacked against their opponent's chest, hard enough to knock the wind out of him. His eyes widened, and before he could recover, Rei was already spinning, twirling the sword in his hand as it dissolved into light and shifted into her shuriken form.

_Shuriken. Unwieldly at short range, but powerful._

The tines of the shuriken, dulled but still spinning quickly, slammed into their opponent's back, sending him pitching forward. He gasped as he stumbled forward, then quickly whirled around in rage, swinging that curved sword that was almost a scythe blade at him.

But Rei was already gone. He'd danced back from the initial blow, then made the signal for the Cloak of Shadows, the shadowy tines of the cloak's kunai embedding themselves into the spikes of the school building, behind and above him.

_Cloak of Shadows,_ he thought as the cords retracted, pulling him backwards through the air. _Good for mobility. Offensive and defensive capabilities limited._

He hoisted himself up on one of the spires, landing in a crouch on the tip of it. Ayame started to shift almost before he signaled her to, the familiar weight of her kusarigama form settling into his hands. The chains hovered in the air around him as he gripped the scythe handles, looking down into the courtyard below at his opponent, who had leaped through the air towards him, bellowing in rage. He tightened his grip on the hilts slightly, feeling the scythes' comfortable weight in his hands.

_Kusarigama—_

The ground shook suddenly, a hole seeming to tear itself open in the _sky._ Students screamed as bolts of energy poured out of that hole, bombarding the ground and sending it shaking, and Rei's eyes widened as he was nearly thrown from his perch, clouds of dust and smoke filling the air. He quickly wrapped the chain of one scythe around his arm and threw it _down,_ the scythe and chain wrapping around the spire below him a few times and securing him to his perch.

His eyes narrowed as he saw his opponent dodge one of the bolts of light, the motion making him lose his momentum and fall backwards through the air.

"Ayame!" Rei yelled, throwing the other scythe towards him.

" _Right!"_ Ayame said, the chain extending as the scythe flew through the air. It quickly wrapped around the other meister's waist, and Rei let out a grunt of pain as he felt the chain go taut, the weight of the other meister yanking him in two directions for a moment. He gathered up his strength, sinking down, and managed with some effort to swing the two of them beneath the spire and up the other side, grabbing the other meister by the back of his shirt and hoisting him up on the spire with him.

The other student stared at the courtyard below as he flopped onto the spire on his belly, eyes wide, their fight forgotten. Rei turned towards him, wiping the sweat from his brow.

"Are you alright?" he asked, offering the student a hand. The student blinked at him in confusion before taking it, hoisting himself up to his feet.

"Yeah," he said, still looking shocked. "I think so."

" _Rei!"_ Ayame said in alarm.

Rei turned suddenly, lifting his head and looking up at the sky. There were forms streaking through that hole now, dark-winged shapes that reminded him of crows, except much bigger. As he watched, they circled through the air, spreading out through the sky above the city, swooping down and raking the tops of buildings.

People screamed. A wave of power pulsed through the tear in the sky, strong enough to nearly throw Rei from his perch, and he gripped tightly onto Ayame's chains, crouching down on top of the spire. His eyes widened, the power brushing the edges of his Soul Perception, and he looked back up in the face of the wind, looking through that glowing light that hovered in the air just above them.

Was that…a Witch's Soul?

A bolt shot out of that glowing light, shooting directly at him. Rei's eyes widened, and he threw his arms up in front of his face, crouching down. He squeezed his eyes shut, preparing for impact.

It never came. Instead, through the ripples of power that he sent out using his Soul Perception, he sensed someone leaping onto the tip of the spire in front of him, their back towards him as they faced down that glowing nexus of energy. He sensed a familiar, powerful wavelength, and his eyes snapped open.

Black Star had _caught_ the bolt of light in his hands, holding it tightly in both hands as it writhed and crackled, like a snake made out of lightning. He looked over his shoulder at Rei, a grin appearing on his face. "You alright, kid?" he asked.

"Rei!"

Rei looked to the side at the sound of his name, eyes widening as he saw his parents flying up to the top of the school building, wings sprouting from the base of his father's scythe blade. Maka drew up beside him, her eyes narrowed in determination as she looked out over the school.

"This isn't good," she said. "Black Star!"

Black Star nodded. "Way ahead of you," he said, reaching up with both hands and _hurling_ the bolt of energy towards one of the crows, like a spear. It pierced straight through the creature's heart, the creature dissolving like shadow. Before Rei could react, Black Star reached back, grabbing him by the front of his shirt. "Alley-oop," he said, lifting Rei up.

Ayame's chains slackened from their hold around the spire as Black Star leaped off the tower, the scarf he was wearing extending until it was just long enough to allow them to bounce on the ground. Above them, Maka had pulled the older student onto the scythe handle behind her and was flying back down. She landed, depositing the older student on the ground and turning towards Black Star.

Something detached from that pool of light in the sky above them, a single soul, brilliant and powerful. Rei's eyes widened as it streaked across the sky, hovering in the air just above the school.

And someone else darted past him, moving to meet it.

Rei stared as Shinigami moved past them, firing a volley at that glowing soul. It darted to the side, avoiding the shots, and Shinigami crouched down, guns held at either side of him. "Students, protect the city!" he said. "Don't fight battles you can't win. Everyone else, you know what to do."

And then he leaped into the sky like a rocket, a glowing light beneath him resolving itself into a hover board as he rose up in the sky to meet that threat.

"That Kid," Black Star muttered from somewhere behind him, looking up at the sky. "Always taking the good fights."

Rei watched him, and then jerked as a thought struck him, drawing him back to reality. He looked around, his eyes moving over the chaos in front of him. Where were Clark and Vayne? Cassie and Morgan? He spread out his Soul Perception like a net around him, but he couldn't find them. It had always been shorter-ranged than his mother's, and there was so much going on—

There!

He felt a pulse of power coming from somewhere at the foot of the steps, to his right and then another, directly ahead of him and somewhere in the city. They had heard Shinigami's order, it looked like, and were already fighting. His shoulders sagged in relief at the feeling of their souls, whole and alive.

A creature landed on the ground in front of him, with enough force to crack the stones of the courtyard, shaking the earth. A giant of a monster, nearly as tall as the school, carrying a club that looked the size of one of the spines. It had a single eye, and Rei froze as that eye focused down on him. He shrank back from it quickly, tightening his grip on the handles of Ayame's kusarigama form.

A hand on his shoulder steadied him, and Rei looked back, his eyes wide. Black Star stood beside him, grinning again as he looked up at the monster. "Huh," he said. "Not bad. This might be fun after all."

"We can finish this quickly," Maka said, straightening up. She moved her scythe in a rapid twirl, catching it in one hand and bracing the butt of the shaft against the ground.

Black Star frowned, glancing back at her. "Tch," he said. "You're no fun, Maka."

To Rei's surprise, his mother only smiled, tightening her grip on the handle of his father's scythe form. She turned towards Rei. "Rei," she said, still smiling. "I think Kid gave you an order."

An order. He'd forgotten. He looked past the monster, his eyes fixing on the crows attacking the city. "Right," he said, drawing in a shaky breath.

Black Star grinned at him, patting him on the back hard enough to send him stumbling forward. "Go on, get going," he said. "Don't you have friends you need to find?"

Clark and Vayne. Cassie and Morgan. The thought of them, and those faint pulses he could still feel, somewhere on the edge of his Soul Perception, those faint melodies, brought him back to reality. He nodded, his eyes narrowing as he crouched down.

"Ayame!" he said.

Ayame transformed, becoming the Cloak of Shadows. Its tines shot forward before Rei could direct them, moving past the monster and slamming into the nearest rooftops in the distance. He was yanked towards them as the cords retracted, the motion flinging him through the air, past the monster, and into the city at rapid speed.

* * *

Black Star watched the two of them go, then turned back towards Maka, the flat of Tsubaki's Masamune form resting on his shoulder. She was watching Rei go, her scythe at the ready.

"Kids are out of the blast zone," he said as she looked up, turning towards him.

She nodded, meeting his eyes. "Right."

Their souls flared up in resonance, a whirlwind of power that moved to encompass the entire courtyard, consuming them and the monster.

* * *

The force that emanated from the resonance behind him was strong enough to slam into Rei, upsetting his momentum and forcing him to roll onto his shoulder on one of the rooftops to avoid slamming into the ground. He looked back at the school, his eyes widening as he felt the waves of power coming off of the courtyard, his parents' wavelengths mingling with Black Star and Tsubaki's.

Even at this distance, he could still feel the power rushing off of them, an immensity he could barely comprehend. He had always heard that his parents were strong, but he had never seen _this_. His breath caught. In her soul space, Ayame stared at that power, her eyes wide.

" _Wow…"_ she breathed.

"That's only two-thirds of their team," Rei said, unable to stop the awe from creeping into his tone. "The other third is…"

He looked up at the source of power that suddenly flared into existence above him, a power so great that for an instant it was more blinding than the sun. Shinigami hovered in the center of that power, his eyes narrowed and his hair glowing as he ducked and wove beneath his opponent's blows, guns firing shots of concentrated wavelength through the air. Ayame followed his gaze and he felt a shiver move through them both, the two of them staring up at the display with wide eyes.

Rei shook his head and tore his attention away from the fight, looking back out at the city. He could stare later, he reminded himself. Right now, he had work to do.

* * *

It happened in an instant.

One minute, Corpore Evans was sitting at her desk by the window, biting her lip as she worked her way through her multiplication tables, and in the next there were explosions and shouts coming from outside and their class was quickly being hurried through the hallways by their teacher, the harsh buzz of an alarm ringing through the corridors above them. The next thing Cori knew, she was standing in a small room with an entire group of panicked kids, Annie holding onto her hand tightly enough to cut off the circulation as Ms. Connell, their teacher, stood a little ways apart, one hand over her ear to blot out the noise of the room, the other holding up her phone so that she could speak urgently into the mouthpiece in a hushed tone.

All around her, students were starting to cry, a handful of them that were weapons like Annie and Cori beginning to lose control and transform halfway, hands becoming blades or hammers or other implements of destruction as they shook with fear. Cori didn't, but she was aware that she was breathing very fast, that she was holding on to Annie's hand about as tightly as Annie was holding on to hers. Overhead, an explosion rang out, distant enough to be nowhere near the school and just close enough to send up another wave of panicked cries, students holding onto each other or ducking for cover. Ms. Connell's eyes widened, startled by whatever it was that she had heard on the other end of the phone, and she ran for the door.

"Stay right here, class!" she said, looking back at them. "Don't leave this room. It's going to be okay."

There was a man on the other side of the door, someone that Cori had seen talking to their teacher before and after school on some days. The door closed before Cori could get more than a glimpse of him, but she saw light from the little strip beneath the door, heard the distinctive ringing sound of someone transforming into weapon form. She tightened her grip on Annie's hand. She'd known—they all had—that their teacher had once been a student at the DWMA. With so many children with weapon or meister abilities concentrated around Death City, it made sense to have a teacher like that at the elementary school, but Cori had never seen her in practice. She never thought she'd have to.

But now…

"What's going on?" Annie asked, her eyes wide with alarm. "Cori, what's going on?"

Cori looked into her twin's eyes and made a conscious effort to calm down, to slow her own breathing. It was hard—she was so scared that she was starting to shake—but looking into Annie's eyes helped. It grounded her in reality, reminded her that _she_ was supposed to be the brave one, the one who wasn't scared of anything. It peeled back some of the layers of fear, so that her mind could start working again.

"It—um—I think we're under attack," she said. "Something's attacking the city."

Before she could elaborate, a distinctive crash sounded, coming from close enough to rock the building. Something thumped into the floor upstairs, rattling the ceiling and causing the children in the room to scream again. Annie let out a whimper of fear, collapsing into Cori's chest as Cori's eyes narrowed, her eyes drifting upwards towards the ceiling.

That crash…it had sounded a lot like broken glass. The second floor windows? That sounded like it had come from their classroom. Had one of the attackers gotten in? Someone would deal with it, Cori knew, but if the teachers were too busy fighting off the other attackers…

She looked around the room, at all of the other panicked children, and suddenly being in here felt stifling. She didn't want to cower in here and wait to see if they were going to get attacked. Rei and Ayame were probably fighting, her _parents_ were probably out there fighting. Wasn't she supposed to be the strong one? The prodigy who could fully transform before her fifth birthday? The Death Scythe's daughter? Was she just going to sit in here while everyone else fought for her?

If she had to stay in here and wait for something to happen, Cori thought that she was going to be sick.

"Come on," she said, making her decision. She released Annie's hand long enough to put both of her hands on her sister's arms, drawing Annie back so that she could look into her eyes. "Let's go. We're going to check it out."

Annie's eyes widened in terror. "Ch-check—Cori, we _can't_! We're supposed to-to stay here…"

"It'll be okay," Cori said, and although it still felt like her hands were going to start shaking again, she felt better for having made this decision. She gathered up her courage with her breath, turning towards her sister. "We can do it," she said. "You just transform. I can do all the work."

"B-B-But…" Annie began.

"It's okay," said Cori, tightening her grip on her sister's arms and looking into her eyes. "I won't let anything hurt you, Annie. I promise, okay? _Trust me."_

"But—I—okay." Annie lowered her eyes to the ground, her shoulders slumping in resignation. She transformed in a flash of light, transitioning into her scythe form. A black handle appeared in Cori's hands, forming into a sleek black blade that almost seemed to _flow_ as if it was made from liquid metal. A single wavy red line streaked horizontally across the blade's flat, straight through the middle of the blade. The scythe's handle was just a _little_ shorter than their father's or grandfather's, but for Cori's height, it was perfect. She gave the scythe an experimental twirl, spinning the blade to the side and around her head before gripping it in both hands, straightening up to her full height.

_No turning back now,_ she thought, her eyes fixed on the door.

She took a deep breath and ran out of the room, turning the corner and taking the stairs two at a time.

 


	27. Attack Pt. 2; Into the Black

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I've outlined this arc so that it lasts 4 chapters, so we're about halfway through unless I decide to add another one. And this chapter reveals something that I've been sitting on for a long time, kind of excited to see how you guys deal with it~ Enjoy!

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX**

**Attack Pt. 2; Into the Black**

* * *

The elementary school's second floor was empty, the morning sun gleaming through the wall of windows to Cori's left. She ran quickly through the empty halls, headed for her classroom, the shaft of Annie's scythe form clutched in both hands. Her heart was pounding, her mind racing. Despite her earlier bravado, she had never actually been in a fight before.

Not that she could ever let Annie know that she was scared. If Annie figured out that she was just as terrified as she was, she would give up. Cori knew it. She had to be brave, for her sister's sake as well as her own.

And she couldn't turn back now. So instead she stopped to crouch outside of the classroom door, peeking around the corner at the inside of the room.

The classroom was a wreck. The windows had been smashed open, shards of glass littering the ground. Something small and dense had slammed into the desks nearest the window, splintering them and sending them crashing to the ground in a small crater around it. As Cori watched some… _thing_ lifted itself up from the wreckage, hopping around. A small monster, barely as high as Cori's knees. It was fuzzy, covered in a thin coat of what looked like black fur. If it hadn't been for the razor sharp teeth inside of its mouth, Cori would almost have said it looked cute.

The sight of the small monster bolstered her confidence. She pressed her back against the wall, wringing her hands around the handle of Annie's scythe form as she prepared to attack. "It's only a little one," she told her sister, keeping her voice low. "We can take it."

" _I don't know about this, Cori…"_ Annie said, looking up at her sister uncertainly. _"Maybe we should go back…"_

"But what if that thing finds the other students?" Cori asked. "Or what if it has friends?" She shook her head. "No, this is our chance. We have to help out—we can't just let Rei and Mama and Papa fight alone."

Her mother's face filled her mind again, the day that Cori had caught her tying a mourning band on her arm. Her mother's tears…the feeling of them against her hands. The memory brought some of her courage back, made her tighten her grip on the scythe as her eyes narrowed. She'd made a promise then, a promise to grow up and grow strong so that that would never happen again. That started today.

"Just trust me, Annie," she said, feeling all the weight of that revelation settle onto its shoulders. She straightened up. "It's going to be okay."

Then, before she could change her mind, she charged into the room, letting out a battle cry.

The monster jumped as if startled, turning towards her, but Cori was quick. She lifted the scythe easily over her head, sweeping it downward and swinging the point of it down at the top of the monster's head. It leaped to the side, snarling at her, and the scythe-point sank into the classroom floor, pinning itself there. Cori braced her hands on the scythe's shaft like she and Annie had practiced and leaped off the ground, using the shaft as leverage to swing her legs at the monster. Her foot crashed into it, throwing it back into a desk, and the wood splintered beneath the weight of it, the desk sliding back and crashing into another one. Cori landed on the ground, Annie's weight comfortable in her hands as she drew the scythe out of the floor, slipping it easily through a twirl and charging at the monster.

The monster let out an angry growl, jumping to its feet. It leaped at her, mouth spread wide, and Cori poured her heart and soul into a battle cry, tucking the scythe's shaft under her arm and swinging the scythe blade in a wide, horizontal arc. The blade caught the monster's side as it leaped towards her and Cori spun with enough force to fling the monster into the wall, the creature leaving a small crater in the drywall before crashing down on top of the desks, kicking up a cloud of plaster and dust. She finished her turn, breathless, and looked down at the scythe in her hands.

"You didn't cut," she said.

" _I tried,"_ said Annie, arms spread wide to either side of her as the scythe's movement came to a stop. She looked uncertain, a worried frown on her face. _"It didn't cut. It…was hard. Like—like armor."_

"Huh…" said Cori, frowning at the crater where the monster had crashed. She could see the monster's carcass now, already beginning to dissolve. The glowing light of its soul appeared, a deep red orb. "Well, either way, it looks like we did it. I'll let you take the soul, since—."

The shadows around the monster's carcass halted, then coalesced, slamming back down onto the small monster's body. Cori's eyes widened as the ground began to shake, shadows pooling around the monster's soul. She tightened her grip on the scythe, spreading her legs and crouching down into a stance as Annie let out a startled shriek.

" _What is it?"_ Annie asked. _"What's happening?"_

Cori didn't answer, her heart jumping into her throat. An arm formed out of the shadows around the soul, followed by another, massive arms, almost as big as she was. They ended in clawed hands, and those clawed hands scrabbled on the tiles, pressing flat against them as the creature's head began to form.

" _C-Cori?"_ Annie asked. _"Wh-what…?"_

Cori took an involuntary step back, eyes wide as the shadows gathered in the creature's face, forming eyes, gleaming red eyes that turned to look at her.

* * *

The school shook and rattled from the force of the blasts, plaster falling from the ceiling in places and startling the students that ran through the hallways below, looking for cover. A network of security personnel had already spread out through the panicked crowd, forming escape routes and guiding the students towards the relative safety of the dungeons. A few students, mostly from the EAT class but with a handful of brave NOT students mixed in, had run outside after Shinigami, weapons in hand to join the fray.

Stein threw his arm out to stop Marie as a chunk of stone fell from the ceiling, landing on the ground directly in front of them. He looked around at the chaos and the sound of the screams, eyes narrowed as his hand reached up, cranking the bolt.

A group of hulking figures had entered the school through the DWMA's doors, further adding to the panic of the crowd. Stein's eyes moved towards them from behind his glasses, narrowing further as he took in their shapes. They moved on four legs, like dogs, but there was fire in their eyes, flames erupting from their open mouths.

_Hellhounds,_ he thought, his eyes moving past them to the security personnel, who had already drawn weapons and were facing down the beasts, protecting the fleeing students. Two of the dogs leaped past them, ignoring them completely as they raced down the hallway. Another three waited a few feet in front of Stein, hackles raised as they growled at him softly.

Behind him, Marie let out a sharp gasp. Stein looked over his shoulder to see her looking back down the hallway, her eyes wide as she watched the hounds' passage.

"The first years," she said. "I think some of them might still be back there."

Stein bit back a curse, cranking his bolt more fiercely in an attempt to drown out the noise. He looked up, eyeing the dogs in front of him. The security personnel had their hands full protecting the students, and the creatures in front of him would attack the minute he tried to move. There was only one thing to do.

"Be careful," he said, sinking into a crouch.

Marie nodded, turning and running back down the hallway as the hounds charged, fangs gleaming.

* * *

A massive, crescent-shaped blade tore through the air, slamming into one of the crows that had taken flight over the city. The crow was giant, large enough to comfortably seat a person, with six red eyes, three on each side that glowed brightly in the morning light.

The blade sheared straight through the crow's neck, the creature dissolving into shadow as the blade's edge caught the sunlight. A thin chain was wrapped tight around the handle of the blade, connecting it with its wielder, who stood on the street below.

Clark tugged sharply on the chain, arresting Vayne's momentum and bringing the blade back towards him. He caught the handle in one hand as the blade fell back towards earth, the other hand carrying the loops of chain. He raised that hand to his face, adjusting his glasses.

" _You alright?"_ Vayne asked, glancing at him sidelong from within his soul space.

"Fine," said Clark, propping the blade up on his shoulder and scanning the skies. He could hear the sounds of destruction coming from one street over, not too far from here. Clark kept the blade's handle propped up on his shoulder, taking off at a run towards the sounds. The streets were empty, Death City's citizens having gone to ground the moment they heard the alarms ringing, and the two of them made good time.

He breathed hard as he ran, feeling his injuries from yesterday's match start to sting, and sucked in a breath through his teeth. Vayne eyed him with concern, his partner's face momentarily reflected in the flat of the blade. His body and soul felt bruised, exhausted from yesterday's exertion, and the sharp edges of Vayne's soul wavelength grated on him, rubbing his spirit raw, but he felt more alive than he had in a long time, certainly more alive than he had been in the past few weeks.

He'd done enough moping around, he decided, and everyone had been more than patient with him. He wouldn't abandon his friends anymore.

Clark drew to a stop as he turned the corner onto the street where the noise was coming from, squaring his stance as he eyed the shadow crow that was currently tearing its way into the top floor of a building. Then, he lifted Vayne from his shoulder and gripped the blade's handle with both hands, spinning around to build up momentum before hurling it at the crow with a loud shout.

The chain, a mark of their resonance, bound him to the pendulum blade as it tore through the air, Vayne letting out a battle cry. It struck the crow somewhere beneath one wing, tearing it in two just as it broke the surface of the roof. Clark caught a brief glimpse of the people inside as the shadow dissipated, saw a woman run forward to grab a small child, drawing her back away from the hole. The sight was lost as the pendulum blade caught the sunlight, the flash of light momentarily blinding.

He stretched out his hand as the lengths of chain fell back towards him, catching the blade again.

"What's our count?" Clark asked, breathless with exertion.

" _That makes five…"_ Vayne replied, and then after a pause, glanced back at him. _"Good to have you back."_

"Glad to be back," said Clark, although his expression was still solemn. He glanced back at the sound of yet another crash, glancing at the plume of smoke that rose into the air, another couple of streets over. "Think you can handle six?"

" _You know it,"_ said Vayne with a tired grin, settling back into stance. In spite of himself, Clark felt the beginnings of a smirk tug at his lips as he adjusted his glasses, glancing down the alleyway towards the crashing sounds.

He hefted Vayne back onto his shoulder, taking off down the alley at a run.

* * *

The Cloak of Shadows' kunai shot towards one of the crows as it sped past Rei and Ayame, the pair of kunai striking the crow's back, just above the wings. The tines retracted sharply, pulling Rei up onto the crow's back. He stretched out a hand quickly and Ayame transformed, becoming a sleek black katana as he sliced down at the crow's neck from behind, severing its head. Before the crow could dissipate, Rei was already moving, pushing off the crow's back and leaping towards one of the nearest houses. The Cloak of Shadows formed around him just as he began to fall, helping him hoist himself back up onto the roof.

Rei paused for breath, one hand braced on the peak of the roof beside him as he looked around at the city. The alarms were still blaring in the background, alerting the populace, but most of the civilians had managed to find cover by now, with only a handful still out in the street. Mifune's security forces were quickly swarming those people, defending them from monsters and covering their escape as the crows continued to attack the city. The DWMA was out in force, students, staff, faculty and even alumni crawling the streets, weapons in hand as they struck at the crows and assorted monsters. Despite that, the crows didn't seem to be getting any _less_ in number. Rei's eyes moved from the scene in front of him to the sky above, where that bright light and power still waited, shrouded from view in its position above the school.

"This isn't any good," he muttered, half to himself as his fingers tightened their grip on the rooftop beside him. "They're just going to keep making more crows. Someone needs to stop them."

" _You wanna be the one to do it?"_ Ayame asked, frowning at him. She was looking up at the sky, her expression determined, but uncertain. Rei followed her gaze, aware that while they were linked like this, she could see what he saw. A shudder ran through him involuntarily.

"Hell no," he said. "But someone has to."

Someone would, he thought, glancing back at the bright lights of their parents' souls in front of the school building, at Shinigami in the air, high above. His eyes moved from them back to the source of power, then back down to the skyline of the city. Someone would take care of it, he told himself, feeling cold. It wasn't _their_ fight.

Instead, there were things he _could_ do. He inhaled deeply, reaching for his Soul Perception, and let it expand, letting it travel over the city. He could feel the pulse of Clark's soul a few blocks east of him, could hear the steady rhythm that accompanied it, louder than it had been in days, and could hear too the faint, but powerful melody coming from Morgan, coming from the west. His Soul Perception overlaid his sight and he could see them, Morgan in the west, Clark in the east. Both of them still seemed relatively healthy, both seemed to be fighting. He had a choice to make.

"What do you think?" he asked Ayame. "Morgan, or Clark?"

" _Morgan,"_ Ayame said, without missing a beat. From within her soul space, her eyes moved eastward, tracking Clark's wavelength without even feeling it. There was a desperation to that wavelength, Rei noticed, a determination and a strong, burning desire to rise again. _"Clark and Vayne have some things they need to work out. Probably best to let them go at it for a bit before we barge in."_

He couldn't deny that. He looked away from Clark's soul wavelength, facing Morgan's, and gauged the distance between this rooftop and the next.

A crow swooped down from above, flying through the gap between the rooftops, and Rei sprang into action, using the Cloak to pull him across the gap to gain momentum, then slicing the crow in two using Ayame's kusarigama form. He landed crouched on the rooftop across the street, the crow dissipating behind him. Rei paused just long enough to glance back at the crow to see if he had done any damage, then leaped, running towards Morgan.

* * *

By the time Shelley reached the DWMA, breathing hard, the school looked almost overrun. She came to a stop at the top of the stairs, resting her hands on her knees as she looked out at the courtyard. The DWMA's forces had been mobilized, students and staff fighting to hold their own in the courtyard as Shinigami warred with his foe overhead. She paused for just long enough to catch her breath, then adjusted her glasses, darting into the building.

Something darted at her from her right, some kind of canine monster, fangs bared in anger. She barely even glanced at it, pausing only to settle into a stance and shift the fingers of her right hand into scalpel-like blades. The blades sliced through the hellhound's belly as it charged, dark blood splashing onto the floor of the lobby. The wind picked up around the blades, razor sharp, and tore the monster to shreds. She shook the blood off of her hand, nose wrinkling in distaste, and turned, looking at the school through the haze of her Soul Perception.

Souls blinked at her in all directions, bright, shimmering points of light, some of them familiar but most not. She could see Micah's soul, now that she knew how to look for it. In some ways, his soul and the power surrounding it had changed in the years since Shelley had last seen him, but in some ways they could never change, in some ways she would always be able to find him. He was deeper within the school, moving quickly. No one else seemed to have noticed him yet.

She also saw her father's soul, standing still amid a small circle of hellhound corpses. Stein was unarmed, fighting barehanded against a small, dwindling contingent of hounds. One of them leaped at him and he ducked underneath the blow, slamming the heel of his hand into the hound's neck and crushing its throat. He let the hound fall to the ground and turned to the side just in time to grab a second hound and knee it in the chest. Shelley heard the sound of bone cracking, saw the hound's soul, misshapen and deformed, rising up from its body to join the small crowd around Stein. She jogged over to him, frowning at the blood that splattered her skirt.

He barely gave her a glance as she drew up next to him, scanning the lobby for more opponents. The look he gave her was short, a quick glance in her direction and back, and the look in his eye was a look she recognized, half-crazed, as if his grip on sanity was a little more tenuous than usual. It didn't scare her at all. Shelley sank down into a defensive stance beside him, her bladed hand held out in front of her.

"Mom?" she asked.

"Gone back for students," said Stein.

Shelley nodded. It made sense, and it would have been just like her mother. She looked at the entrance for a little while longer, the both of them pretending in that moment that more enemies would be coming when it was clear that there were none. When she couldn't wait any longer, she drew in a deep breath.

"Micah's here," she said.

Stein nodded, still not looking at her. "In the dungeons." _Where he belongs._ He didn't say that last part, but it seemed implied. She took in a breath, gathering her courage, and smoothed out her skirt with her human hand.

"So," she said, straightening up.

Stein nodded, then turned his head to give her another glance. His head was tilted slightly to the side, a little too far than could be excused by 'normal' conversation. "So," he repeated. She knew him well enough to know what he _wanted_ to do, to hear the words and questions unspoken.

Marie wasn't here. Micah was here. Stein would need a weapon.

She didn't say anything more, just exhaled, long and slow. Her body dissolved into light.

* * *

" _Ventus, ventum, venti!"_

Wind howled around Morgan, rustling through the pages of Cassie's grimoire form and slamming into one of the crows. It let out a screeching cry as the wind tore through it, tearing it to shreds. The shreds dissolved into shadows, fading from view as the wind around Morgan started to settle down, her hair and clothes falling back into place.

" _Behind you!"_ Cassie warned, her eyes wide.

Morgan spun, facing a second crow as it dove down on top of her, claws outstretched. She leaped back, avoiding the initial blow as she looked down at the blank page in front of her, words inscribing themselves onto the page as she spoke them. _"The earth rose up and fell like a wave on top of the crow, crushing it."_

Beneath her, the street buckled, cobblestones cracking as the earth rose up to follow along. The ground shuddered as it crushed the crow, settling back into place around the shadows, and Morgan quickly ducked out of the street, running for the relative safety of an alley.

She paused for breath, her back to the wall as around her, the battle continued to rage. Her mouth felt dry, her body slightly numb as if she had used too much magic. She knew that on some level, Cassie was using her witch's soul as fuel for these feats, but it had been a while since she had felt the effects.

She raised trembling fingers to her face, wiping away sweat and looking up at the sky. Cassie watched her with concern.

" _Are you alright, Morgan?"_ she asked.

"Fine," said Morgan, a little too quickly. "Just—fine."

Except, she wasn't fine. Because if she didn't know better, she would have said that those crows were specifically targeting her.

Cassie could be unobservant at times, but she wasn't stupid. Her eyes moved up, staring at something through the pink void of her soul space, scanning the sky. _"You don't think she knows…do you?"_

"If she did know," Morgan said, "I wouldn't be here."

Cassie fell silent, momentarily mollified, and Morgan let her eyes move back to the sky, feeling a shiver run through her. She hadn't lied, if the Morrigan knew of her presence, she would doubtlessly have sent someone to collect her much earlier, but that didn't mean that she understood what was going on. How could the Morrigan _not_ know she was here?

Her eyes moved away from that source of power, landing on the pair still locked in battle in the sky above them. One of them, bearing two silver guns and a soul powerful enough to lay waste to a city, was the shinigami she had supposedly sworn allegiance to in order to attend this school. The other, dark hair streaming behind him and a serious, determined look on his face, was Mordred, the sorcerer who was supposedly her uncle.

The sorcerer who, defying everything that she had ever known about him, had let her escape her grandmother's castle in the first place.

Somehow, she sincerely doubted that he would do that again.

She drew in a deep breath, giving him one last glance from the safety of the alley. Then, eyes narrowing in determination, she opened the book in her hands again, stepping out into the fray and beginning to chant.

* * *

The shadows coalesced, becoming a giant of a monster, with large, gorilla like arms and glowing red eyes out of a nightmarish face, with black, curved teeth gleaming. Cori took a step back, her heart jumping into her throat and her grip faltering on Annie's handle. Annie looked behind her from within the deep violet of her own soul space, eyes wide as she sensed her twin's fear.

" _C-Cori?"_ she asked, her own voice starting to shake.

Cori drew in a rattling breath as the monster loomed over her, then forced herself back under control, gripping Annie's handle harder to keep her own hands from shaking. She couldn't break down. She _couldn't._ If she broke down, if she wasn't confident, then Annie…

"It's—it's going to be okay," she said, staring at the monster with wide green eyes as it turned to face her, baring its terrible fangs. "We—we're going to be okay."

" _B-But Cori…"_

Cori shook her head fiercely, trying to banish all of her fear. Her heart pounded in her chest, so quickly that she was half-afraid it would burst. The fear threatened to take over her, overwhelm her. She wanted to run away, wanted to stay rooted in place like a startled animal, just in case the monster wouldn't attack if it couldn't see her. Instead, she did the one thing she _least_ wanted to do.

She charged.

The monster—the ogre—raised an arm to block the blow. Annie's scythe blade sliced into it, releasing a gout of thick, dark blood. For a second, Cori's eyes gleamed with triumph.

And then the monster's other hand slammed into her side, with enough force to throw her across the room.

The blast knocked the wind out of her, her grip on Annie's handle loosening. _"Cori!"_ Annie shouted in alarm as the scythe clattered to the ground, Cori slamming into the wall on the far side of the room.

Pain erupted from her side, and her vision went black as she struck the wall hard, the world wavering for an instant as she settled back down to the ground. She gasped for breath, one hand wrapped tight around her side where the monster had struck her, the other hand outstretched towards Annie. Towards her sister, so far away, three feet out of reach even as the ogre advanced on her, grunting softly with each step. She looked up at the ogre and felt her breath catch in terror, staring as the creature stopped in front of her.

She couldn't move, couldn't do anything but watch as it reached for a broken and twisted piece of metal on the ground, a piece from one of the desks, and drew its arm back, ready to swing at her. Cori squeezed her eyes shut, throwing her arms up to protect her face. From somewhere in front of her, there was a flash of light, the sound of hurried footsteps. She heard someone scream her name.

She opened her eyes just in time to see Annie leap in front of her, arms outstretched protectively. The metal rod came down, catching Annie in the side with tremendous force. There was a loud crack, like something breaking, and Cori could only stare as her twin was thrown off of her feet by the force of the blow, hurled bodily into the pile of desks in the back of the room. Wood splintered as the girl crashed into them, and Cori's heart stopped.

"Annie!" she yelled, trying to get up. The ogre snarled, raising its metal rod again.

And was interrupted by a droplet of black liquid, hanging in the air just in front of its face. Its eyes narrowed as it stared cross-eyed at it, its movements halting somewhat. The air was full of those black droplets, hovering just over the ogre, coating the metal rod that it held. Cori watched, wide-eyed, as Annie sat up among the broken desks and blinked, as she reached a hand towards her wounded side.

Her fingers came away wet, darkened with the same black liquid. The same black blood.

Annie stared at the blood coating her fingertips, her hand beginning to shake. Her lip quivered, her eyes widening. She opened her mouth and let out a high-pitched, bloodcurdling scream.

The droplets in the air narrowed into needles, slamming into the ogre and tearing it into shreds.

* * *

Maka shifted her grip on Soul's handle as she fell through the air, the scythe blade cutting through the giant's shoulder and slicing a line diagonally across its chest to its hip. From below, Black Star leaped up to meet her, gripping Tsubaki's Masamune form and slicing an identical line, from hip to shoulder, on the giant's other side. It let out a loud bellow of rage, stumbling back from the blows, but the two of them didn't let it recover. Maka leaped back on top of Soul, wings spreading from either side of the scythe blade as they rose. Above them, Black Star flipped over in the air and kicked off of one of the school's spires, launching himself at the giant.

Black Star's strike pierced straight into the giant's chest, at the same time as Maka's slice sheared off its head.

The giant's carcass fell to the ground with a thud, its soul rising into the air above them. Maka frowned at it, her eyes narrowed as she and Soul circled the area before settling gently back down onto the ground. The soul was a deep red, and it pulsated oddly, looking deformed somehow, misshapen. As if it had been altered.

She barely had a chance to study it before Black Star launched himself at it, the red soul disappearing as it was absorbed into Tsubaki. Maka frowned, stepping lightly off of Soul and landing on the ground. She caught the scythe in one hand, giving it a spin to shake the blood off of it and turning to face the warrior as he landed on the ground beside her.

"I was looking at that, you know," she said.

"Too bad," said Black Star, grinning. "You'll just have to get another."

"Maybe I will," said Maka, looking back out over the city. She looked at it through the filter of her Soul Perception, searching for and marking the locations of her students, and as she did, she noticed another thing that was odd. The crows didn't seem to _have_ souls. An illusion? Or some kind of magic spell?

She looked back at Black Star, who was already facing the city, Tsubaki's sword form held loosely in one hand. "Hey, where are the good fights anyway?" he asked. "That was kind of lame. No offense."

Maka smiled faintly. "None taken." The smile faded as she looked up at the sky, towards that glowing pinprick of power. The Morrigan's soul, she knew, but muted somehow, as if she was seeing it through a curtain. "The Morrigan's up there somewhere," she said, in response to Black Star's question.

"Up there, huh?" asked Black Star, scanning the sky. "Well, I mastered the sky years ago. Come on, Tsubaki."

" _Right!"_ said Tsubaki, the two of them leaping into the air. Maka watched them go, glancing at Soul in his weapon form.

"Think we should join them?" she asked.

" _You never know,"_ said Soul, grinning at her. _"We might need to keep them out of trouble."_

She smiled back, her eyes narrowing in determination as she made to jump onto the scythe again. Before she could, Soul's expression suddenly changed, and she felt something spike in his wavelength, something almost like pain. Within his soul space, he hunched over and sucked in a breath, one of his hands closing over the skin of his scar.

"Soul?" Maka asked, alarmed. "Soul, what's wrong?"

" _Annie,"_ Soul said, his breath catching. His eyes were wide, staring into nothing. _"We need to—Annie—the girls."_

_Annie_ , Maka thought, her mind slowing to a crawl as she stared at Soul. _Black blood._

And then, terribly, she thought of the twins, thought of them alone in this melee, thought of the sort of situation that might make Annie lose control.

Her eyes widened, her head immediately turning in the direction of the elementary school, to those two bright pinpricks of light that she now saw in her vision. She stared at it, felt the darkness in Annie's soul wavelength even from this distance, and her heart leaped into her throat. She threw Soul down so that he was hovering in the air above the ground, Black Star and the Morrigan forgotten for an instant as she leaped onto the handle, her mind frozen with fear.

"Hurry!" she told Soul.

Soul nodded, sucking in a breath through his teeth. He raised his head, some of the tension leaving him as the scythe shot forward like an arrow, aimed towards the elementary school.

* * *

The two of them clashed and came apart, clashed and came apart. Kid scowled in frustration as the sorcerer he was fighting darted out of the way of his shots, hovering in the sky. Light pooled in the sorcerer's hand, coalescing into a violet spear that shot straight at Kid's chest. Kid banked sharply to the right, dodging the spear without much difficulty, and raised his pistols with both hands, firing sharply at the dark-haired sorcerer.

The sorcerer simply danced back, his expression calm as he raised his hands, forming a sphere of deep violet light around himself. The shots struck the shield and rippled across it, light crackling where the wavelength hit. They struck hard enough to drive the sorcerer back through the air, cracking the shield, but he only dropped out of the way as the shield fell, dodging Kid's next attack.

"Is that the best that the reigning Shinigami can do?" he asked, a mocking lilt to his voice as he drifted backwards in the air, narrowly avoiding an uppercut as Kid tried to close with him.

Kid scowled instead of responding, raising his guns and firing off another blast. The sorcerer raised his palms and formed a circular shield of light in the air, just large enough to block the blasts. The force behind the blasts drove him back, and Kid saw him grit his teeth against the blow as he flipped over backwards in the air, hovering a few feet away. Before Kid could get a lead on him, he started flying around Kid in a wide arc, shifting directions before Kid could fire. A vein started to pulse in Kid's forehead and he tightened his grip on his guns.

" _Dammit, what's his deal?"_ Liz asked, scowling at the sorcerer from within the space she shared with her sister. _"He's just playing around!"_

" _Come on, Kid!"_ Patty said. _"Shoot 'im out of the sky!"_

"I'm _trying_ ," Kid said, scowling. He squeezed the triggers, wavelength pouring out of the gun barrels in a steady barrage of shots as he spun, bright light tracing a circle around him like fire. The sorcerer's eyes widened and he raised his arms, vanishing in the barrage of light. He appeared in the air a moment later, hovering just above Kid.

"Damn it," Kid swore, mostly to himself. The sorcerer's soul pulsed at the edges of his vision, tracing an orb around the dark-haired man. The sorcerer was strong, but not strong enough that Kid didn't think he could beat him if he tried, it was just that he was so damn _slippery_. Like he didn't actually _care_ about fighting Kid, like he was more concerned with…

Kid's eyes widened and he looked behind him suddenly, looked out over the expanse of the city. At the little lights that assaulted it, at the souls of those that rose to protect it. A collection of weak monsters, not too strong to fight, but just strong enough to keep the students busy. A handful of stronger monsters, set to engage the stronger members of DWMA's staff, again not to fight them, just to keep them busy. No actual sign of the Morrigan herself besides her wavelength, just this sorcerer that almost immediately engaged Kid.

"So you've figured it out?" asked the sorcerer, pausing to hover in front of him. His fine coat was tattered from the blasts, and blood coated one of his sleeves, but beyond that, he seemed unarmed. Kid snarled, turning back around to face him.

"What have you done?" he asked, his tone dangerous.

The sorcerer didn't answer, only tilted his head to the side, facing the school. An explosion rocked it, coming from the basement. Kid's eyes widened as the school building shook, a crack appearing along one of the spires. The spire clattered to the ground, forming a crater in the courtyard as the school building _tilted_ to the side, leaning precariously to the right. From below, people screamed.

He spun back around to face the sorcerer, but the sorcerer was already beginning to fly away, a trail of light in the air below him.

 


	28. Attack Pt. 3; Facing the Past

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN**

**Attack Pt. 3; Facing the Past**

* * *

People assumed that Shelley's weapon form was a spear.

It was completely understandable to her why they might make that assumption. After all, every single time that she and Angela had fought together, she had taken on the form of a naginata. The curved spear suited Angela's fighting style better, and it was already usable for flight, without any drastic changes needed. She liked being a spear, liked the range and other possibilities that that form granted her.

It didn't mean that that was what she had been born as.

Angela was a witch, which meant that resonating with her was akin to being made a temporary Death Scythe, giving her the ability to alter her form to suit her meister. And since Shelley had always had a particularly versatile soul, it hadn't taken her long to realize that that was the weapon form that Angela was most comfortable with. But now, as she felt herself transform in a flash of light, she could feel her body settling back into its original weapon configuration, a form that she hadn't used in years, but was just as comfortable as slipping on an old pair of shoes.

Stein stretched his hand out and she took shape in it, the light coalescing and forming a thin, slender blade, a scalpel that Stein spun between his fingers, the handle passing between each finger in turn before resting comfortably in the palm of his hand.

Shelley felt his wavelength and shifted hers to meet it, feeling his do the same. A meister that could wield any weapon, and a weapon that could match any meister. They pushed their glasses up at the same time, light shining off of Stein's glasses in the physical world.

Shelley felt the madness in her father's wavelength and unconsciously molded her soul to account for it. She couldn't calm him, not the same way her mother could, but she could deal with it in other respects. It wasn't enough madness to be worrying, but she was glad for the work. It gave her something else to think about, something other than the task at hand.

Something other than Micah.

She frowned, folding one arm over her chest as the wind pulled in close to the scalpel blade. Whatever feelings she might have, she buried them deep down, hiding them somewhere deep inside of herself.

Now was not the time to feel sorry.

When Stein took off at a run towards the dungeons, when they closed in on Micah through the second sight of their shared Soul Perception, Shelley didn't flinch. She watched, stone-faced, as her father burst through the door, as Micah turned around from his position in the corridor and watched them, still wearing that expression of faint regret that he had worn in the graveyard, the last time she had seen him.

Shelley found that she couldn't look at him anymore.

"Somehow," Micah said, as he reached into the inside pocket of his cloak. "I was hoping that it wouldn't be you."

Stein drew to a stop, spinning the small blade in his hand and holding it at the ready. "Shelley," he said.

Shelley raised the hand that wasn't folded across of herself, pulling it down through the void of her soul space. Light traced through the air in its wake, numbers reflecting themselves off of her glasses. _"Targeting,"_ she said.

Her wavelength began to spread, light drifting across the surface of Stein's soul. In the outer world, numbers reflected off of his glasses, the same rapid fire pattern that flickered through the walls of her soul space. His senses sharpened, the wind around the scalpel in his hand becoming steady and regular as Shelley began gauging the distance between her and Micah, lining up the target.

Marie might be able to enhance her meister's physical attributes, but Shelley had never inherited that art. Her battles had always been battles of the mind, the senses. She made sure to keep those senses sharp now, her eyes on Micah as he drew a single card from his cloak, turning it to face them.

Justice.

The card dissolved into light, forming a slender, one-handed sword. He gripped the sword's hilt with ease, his gaze regretful as he looked at her from over the steel.

Stein charged at him just as the building shook, the explosion shaking the ground.

* * *

Clark ran towards the sounds of battle, the chaos of the city reigning around them. He felt his breath coming in hard pants, his grip tightening on Vayne's handle as he ran, the back of the blade braced against his shoulder. His lungs burned, chest heaving with the exertion, and sweat beaded on his forehead, glistening across his skin. He was exhausted, his injuries from yesterday's training burning. And he was afraid.

But there was something else, an electric thrill that coursed through his veins as he ran through the street towards the sound of battle and destruction, a thrill that reminded him why he had come to the DWMA in the first place.

He burst out onto the street, widening his stance as he skidded to a stop and lifting Vayne off of his shoulder with both hands—

—and froze, his eyes widening as he noticed the boy standing in the middle of the street, turning to face him.

Grayson Knight looked rougher than he had been the last time Clark had seen him, before his expulsion from the DWMA. His hair was longer and scruffier, his eyes harder and more deadly. Scars lanced his skin, one on his arm, the other on the side of his face. Diagonal scars, almost like claw marks. He was dressed in a dark-colored shirt with the sleeves ripped off, jeans, boots. Sometime in the intervening year, he'd gotten a piercing, a bolt of sleek silver metal in the vicinity of his left eyebrow. A gauntlet of rippling black metal encased his right arm and climbed all the way up to his shoulder, covering the same area that Richard's weapon form had once covered. It was similar to his former weapon but different, more organic in a way, but somehow less alive.

Clark tightened his grip on Vayne, catching his breath as he kept his eyes on Grayson. The other boy looked at him, and there was nothing but contempt in those eyes, seething contempt and hatred. A part of him knew why Grayson was here, but the rest of him seemed unwilling to believe it. He stared at Grayson numbly, heart pounding, mouth going dry.

Vayne wasn't _nearly_ as slow on the uptake.

From inside his soul space, his partner let out an alarming snarl, clenching his hands into fists. Vayne's eyes narrowed in anger, his soul straining against the boundaries of their resonance. The sharp edges of Vayne's wavelength dug into his, producing a sensation that was almost physical, and Clark jolted out of his stupor, his eyes snapping up to meet Grayson's.

"You…" he said. "You joined _them_?"

Grayson frowned at Clark, as if trying to place him somehow, and then something in his mind seemed to click and his eyes lit up. "Well," he said, a sneer appearing on his face. "If it isn't the momma's boy."

Clark's eyes widened at his words, his surprise at them making him freeze for an instant. It was just long enough for Grayson to cross the distance between them, just long enough for Grayson to draw his fist back.

And then Clark remembered himself.

He darted to the side, away from Grayson's punch. Clark shifted his hold on Vayne to one hand, hefting the massive blade up off the ground. He slammed into the side of Grayson's gauntleted arm with the flat of the blade, the sheer momentum behind Vayne swatting Grayson's fist aside as with his other hand, he adjusted his glasses. Grayson stumbled back, and before he could recover, Clark stepped in, striking at Grayson's neck with his free hand.

The older boy jerked his head back, avoiding the strike, but it had only ever been a distraction. Clark dropped his free hand back to Vayne's handle, lifting the blade with both hands and swinging it in a wide arc in front of him, parallel to the ground. Grayson raised his gauntleted arm just in time, metal clanging against metal as the arm blocked the blade, but Vayne's momentum threw him off his feet, forcing him back.

As he leaped back, away from Clark, Clark completed his turn, shifting his grip on Vayne to a one-handed grip again and swinging it vertically through the air. The air parted beneath the blade, sending a blast at Grayson that was powerful enough to knock him backwards through the air, slamming into his chest and catapulting him straight into the nearest building.

Clark stabbed one of the pendulum's points through the ground, using the leverage to keep the blade upright as he caught his breath, chest burning. Vayne was...heavier than usual, and Clark knew that it wasn't a problem with Vayne. His partner's weapon form practically hummed beneath his touch, a sign of Vayne's eagerness to fight. It was his own soul that had started to shy away.

Vayne noticed. His reflection appeared in the blade's flat, his eyes wide as he looked over his shoulder at Clark.

" _Clark?"_ he asked.

Clark shook his head, pushing his glasses up again. He had to stay focused. He couldn't allow Grayson to rattle him, couldn't allow his thoughts and doubts to get the better of him again. He thought he was over that. Still…

"What do you know about my mother?!" he called into the wreckage, his grip on Vayne's handle momentarily faltering.

At first, there was no answer. Then, Grayson let out a loud laugh, and Clark felt something _shift,_ his eyes widening in alarm as he realized that Grayson was suddenly _behind him_. He spun, picking up Vayne in both hands, and managed to use the flat of the blade to block the blow that came his way, gritting his teeth against the force of the punch. Grayson looked at him from over their locked steel, his lips bared as he pulled away from a grin.

"So you _are_ that creepy lady's kid," he said. "What d'you think, Greysteil? You gonna join the family business?"

Clark's eyes narrowed, anger flooding through him, and suddenly Vayne was light in his hands again, their wavelengths snapping back into sync. "Go to hell," Clark said, ducking beneath the gridlock. He braced one hand on the ground, lifting himself up off the ground with it and using the other to swipe out with Vayne at Grayson's ankles.

Grayson danced back, avoiding the slash, then darted back in, lightning quick. His punch took Clark in the jaw, and Clark let out a grunt of pain as he was driven back, the blow nearly knocking him off of his feet. Before Clark could recover, Grayson drew his fist back and punched again, this time hitting Clark in the torso. He managed to tense up in the instant before the blow hit, stopping the wind from being knocked out of him, but the blow still forced him back, and he exhaled sharply as he stumbled, his eyes on Grayson.

" _Clark!"_ Vayne said, alarmed.

Grayson had started to move, picking up speed. He moved faster than Clark had ever seen him move before, darting around Clark. There was a grin on his face as he appeared, first to Clark's right and then to Clark's left, moving so quickly that his movements were impossible to track. His laugh echoed through the air.

"How do you like _this_ , Greysteil?" Grayson demanded. "Bet the DWMA didn't teach you _these_ tricks."

Clark's eyes narrowed, moving from left to right beneath his glasses as he tried to keep track of Grayson's movements. "Vayne," he said, raising Vayne over his head. Vayne nodded, the blade catching the sunlight.

" _Soul Resonance!"_

He poured his wavelength into it, Vayne's wavelength rising up to meet him. Their wavelength's exploded, doubling in size, the wind kicking up around Clark as his soul rose up to fill the space around him. Light flared up from beneath Clark's fingers, coalescing into a chain. His free hand came up, wiping at his jaw where Grayson had struck him.

As Grayson finally darted in to attack him, moving in from his right, Clark let Vayne fly with a flick of his wrist, holding onto the chain.

The pendulum swung towards Grayson, slicing through the air and shooting towards him head-on. His eyes widened, and he banked sharply, avoiding the blow. Clark reached up with his free hand and closed his fingers around the chain, tugging sharply. The blade reversed direction, and Clark leaped into the air, pulling on the chain so that the pendulum blade skimmed the earth, slicing upward at Grayson from below.

He ducked just in time, his eyes wide as he used his gauntleted arm like a shield. The pendulum blade glanced off of the gauntlet, its trajectory changing, and Clark maneuvered it into an arc, catching it in one hand as he landed on the ground. He let it fly again, still holding onto the chain, and the blade flew parallel to the ground, shooting towards Grayson. Grayson raised his gauntlet to meet it, but he was not prepared for the force behind the blow, and it knocked him back. Before he could recover, Clark gave the chain a sharp tug, sending Vayne careening back in the opposite direction. He used Vayne's momentum to pull himself forward, launching himself towards Grayson as he and Vayne passed each other.

Clark jabbed at Grayson's eyes with one hand, and then, as Grayson jerked back to avoid the strike, dropped into a crouch, coiling the chain around his knuckles. He punched first at Grayson's kidney and then at the back of his knee, the other boy's knee crumpling with the movement. Clark straightened up and used his fist to backhand Grayson in the back of the head, then, while he was disoriented, looped the chain around him, pinning his arms to his side. He tugged, pulling Vayne back to him from where the pendulum blade had embedded itself in a wall, and catching it in one hand.

"Who are you working for?" he demanded, spinning Grayson around to face him. "What does any of this have to do with my mother?"

Grayson's eyes widened and for a moment, it looked like he might talk. Then, an explosion rattled the ground, coming from the school behind them. Clark turned without thinking, looking back over his shoulder at it, and Grayson took the opportunity to slip out of his hold, hands slamming into him and bodily shoving him off as he untangled himself from the lengths of chain. A cloud of dust rose up as Grayson punched the street with his gauntleted hand, the blow strong enough to disintegrate the cobbles beneath them. Clark coughed and retched as he inhaled some of the dust, his eyes wide.

When the dust cleared, Grayson was gone.

* * *

The elementary school stood just on the edges of the worst of the fighting, crows swooping down on the rooftops nearest the building and monsters in the street. Maka tightened her grip on Soul's handle, urging him to pick up speed as they flew over a handful of teachers in the street that led to the school, fighting back the monsters. The school's second floor windows had been broken, glass shattered as if something had crashed right into them. Soul banked sharply in the air, flying towards Annie and Cori's classroom windows without any prompting on her part, and Maka felt her heart race.

One side of the twins' classroom's windows were almost completely broken, as if they had been torn through by some massive force. On instinct, Maka looked at the window through the lens of her Soul Perception, casting her awareness through the break and into the room.

There were four souls inside. Two were the pulsating, deformed souls of the monsters that were attacking the city, but they hung freely in the air, no longer attached to any sort of body. They weren't a threat anymore. Her shoulders sagged with relief, and she focused in on the other two.

On the surface, they were identical souls, but on the inside, they couldn't be more different. She felt the madness still wrapped up tight within Annie's soul, a nexus of darkness and fear tied intimately to the black blood that coursed through her veins. The other, all misguided bravery and light, was Cori's, and it pulsed with a raw, unrefined version of the wavelength that Maka herself had used on many occasions when faced with the black blood. Was using right now, to keep some of the pressure off of Soul.

The Anti-Magic Wavelength. She let out a ragged breath, feeling her grip on Soul's handle finally loosen. The twins were alright, and as long as Cori was with her, Annie wouldn't lose her control. Already, she could feel the ragged edge of madness starting to fade, the blood going back to its dormant state.

She and Soul floated slowly through the open window, and Maka leaped off as soon as they were through, landing lightly on the ground. She held the scythe loosely in one hand, frowning at the scene in front of her.

Annie and Cori sat on their heels on the floor, surrounded by the wreckage of the classroom. Shards of glass and twisted splinters from broken desks littered the ground around them. A thin line of red trickled down the side of Cori's cheek, and a plate of hardened black blood was pressed up against Annie's side like a bandage. Apart from that, the two of them seemed alright. Each had a single red soul clasped between both hands and were pulling it closer to themselves, Annie uncertainly and Cori enthusiastically.

"Ita-dakimasu~" Cori said, the two of them opening their mouths wide.

Maka cleared her throat. The twins went rigid, both of them looking up from over the red souls. When they saw her and Soul, Annie let out a startled yelp and dropped the soul she was holding, springing back. Cori's eyes widened, and she quickly backed away as well.

"What _exactly_ is going on here?" Maka asked, narrowing her eyes. She released Soul as he started to transform, and while he materialized beside her, folded her arms, looking down at the twins.

"Um…" began Cori. The twins exchanged a long glance, before Cori drew herself up so that she was sitting straight. "We fought a monster?"

"Where are your teachers?" Maka asked. "Where are the other students?"

"Um—," Cori began, scratching the back of her head with one hand. "Uh—well—that is—"

"Annie?" Maka asked.

Annie looked up miserably from where she was sitting on the floor, staring at Maka from beneath a curtain of silver hair. "The rest of the class is hiding. Cori said we could fight the monster, so we did…" she said glumly. "It had two souls, so she said we could have one each."

"Two souls?" Maka repeated, frowning down at the souls lying on the floor between the twins. For a moment, she lost the thread of her irritation, her mind going back to what she had noticed earlier. "You're sure? Two souls, from one monster?"

Annie nodded, not looking up. Cori, sensing that her mother was distracted, quickly dived back into the conversation. "You should have seen her, Mama!" she said. "Annie _exploded_ it! It just went all to _pieces_!"

It was the wrong thing to say. Maka's attention jerked sharply back to her, her eyes narrowing again, and Cori quickly looked away, a slight flush on her face. From beside Maka, Soul let out a long sigh, walking over to Cori and cuffing her lightly in the back of the head. She let out a small 'oof', her head moving forward with the movement, and Soul crouched down so that he was at eye level with her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Next time, leave the fighting to the rest of us, okay?" he asked. "There's going to be plenty of time to get into fights when you're older."

Cori blinked up at him, her eyes starting to water. "I just…wanted to be like you," she said.

"I know you did," said Soul. "But don't worry us like that again, okay?" He placed his hand on Cori's head, patting it roughly, and looked over his shoulder at Maka. Maka sighed and relented, letting her arms fall back to her side. She exhaled, turning towards Annie.

"Annie, are you alright?" she asked, crouching down in front of the other girl and gently turning her face up towards her. Maka carefully smoothed her hair out of her face, revealing wide green eyes that were just as tear-filled as Cori's. On top of her head, the girl's two small pigtails had transformed into quivering black blades, a sign that she was on the edge of a breakdown. "You're hurt."

"Y-Yes…" Annie said, one of her hands brushing against the black plate stuck to her side. "I-I—I—."

And then Annie threw herself into Maka's arms and started to cry.

Maka sighed, sitting back on her heels and wrapping her arms around the crying girl. "There, there," she said, placing a hand on the back of Annie's head and gently rocking back and forth. "It's alright. You're fine. Nothing's going to hurt you…"

Across from them, Cori watched Annie's breakdown with a bewildered look on her face, her eyes moving from her twin to her father. Soul still had his hand on Cori's head, but he was watching Annie now, his expression troubled. His eyes moved past her face to the tear on her dress, to the droplets of black blood that smeared the walls around them.

"I didn't mean to…" Cori said softly, balling her hands up in the fabric of her dress. "I told her to transform so that she wouldn't get hurt. I didn't mean for that to happen, Papa."

Soul watched Annie for a moment longer before turning towards Cori. He seemed to stare at her for a long moment, as if considering how he should respond to her. "I know you didn't," he finally said, looking her in the eye. "But we've talked about this. You know what can happen with Annie."

"But—but she's okay!" said Cori, her eyes wide. "As long as I'm with her, she's not gonna lose control. I can always bring her back, can't—can't I?" She stared up at Soul when he didn't respond immediately, tears filling her eyes. Her lip quivered, and when she next spoke, it was much softer. "Can't I?"

"You…probably can," said Soul after a while, letting his hand fall back to his side. "Just…uh…just don't overdo it."

Before Cori could ask him anything more, he stood up, turning towards Maka. Maka slowed her rocking as Annie's sobbing dwindled down into sniffles, rubbing slow circles on her back and waiting until she finally started to calm down. By the time Annie relaxed enough to allow Maka to pull her away, her shirt was soaked.

"There," she said, giving Annie a smile. "All better, right?"

Annie sniffed, her eyes red-rimmed from crying. "I-I guess…" she said. Her eyes moved past Maka, landing on Cori sitting across from her and at the souls lying on the ground between them. "Can—can we still take the souls?"

Maka frowned, glancing across at Soul, who shrugged. She looked back at Annie. "Alright," she said. "But don't get used to it. I mean it. You two are both _so_ grounded."

Annie nodded, slowly extricating herself from Maka's hold. Maka took the opportunity to stand up, turning towards Soul.

That was when an explosion sounded out from behind him, loud enough to rock the building.

Annie and Cori let out frightened cries, Cori covering her ears as Annie toppled over. Maka and Soul turned towards the window sharply, eyes widening. Before anyone could stop her, Maka ran towards the window, scaling a pile of wrecked desks nimbly and looking out at the city ahead of her. "That came from the school," she said.

"We should go?" Soul asked, walking up to her.

Maka nodded, looking back over her shoulder. "Cori, listen to me," she said. "Take your sister, and go back to the rest of your class. Try and find the nurse if you can, but stay out of trouble. Annie…are you alright with doing that for now?" She gestured with one hand towards the hardened black blood pressed firmly to Annie's side. Annie visibly paled, but she nodded solemnly, her eyes on the ground.

"I-I think so…" she said. "It's not that hard…"

"Okay," Maka said. "Try and find the nurse, but if you can't, just stay like that until things calm down. Don't come out of hiding again. And we're not done talking about this, young lady," she added to Cori, pausing to frown at her as the other girl reached for the soul again.

Before either of them could respond, Maka held out her hand to Soul, catching him as he transformed. She launched herself out the window, wings spreading out from the other side of Soul's scythe blade as they took off into the sky, turning back around and heading for the DWMA.

* * *

The blast rocked the building, sending Stein tumbling back as cracks appeared in the ceiling overhead, a large chunk of stone dropping between him and Micah. The world tilted on its axis for an instant, and he quickly widened his stance to keep his balance, the floor beneath him tilting to the side as the whole building groaned and readjusted itself. The air filled with dust, momentarily obscuring his view as the place settled.

In her weapon form, Shelley let out a soft gasp, her eyes widening as she looked up through her soul space's sterile gray void.

Then Micah appeared out of the wreckage, running towards them.

Stein felt a grin tug at his lips as Micah approached, sword in hand. Light gleamed off the sword's flat as Micah pulled it back to strike, his red eyes impassive as he slid down the heap of rubble that had fallen between them.

" _He's aiming for your leg,"_ Shelley said, light shining off of her glasses as she quickly composed herself. _"He'll feint high and duck at the last moment."_ As she spoke, Stein could see Micah's actions play out in his mind, momentarily overlaid on top of his vision. He 'saw' Micah approach him, saw him swipe his sword quickly at Stein's face, then drop and lunge forward, aiming to hamstring him.

The image faded like smoke as Micah reached him. A second image appeared, one superimposed on reality. A line of light that curved around Micah, positioned at the exact angle necessary to avoid the blow before glancing off of his side and continuing on into the distance. Stein gave the scalpel a spin between his fingers, feeling its familiar weight.

When Micah drew his sword back, swiping at his face, Stein was ready. He ducked beneath the lunge and closed in on Micah before he could react, stepping quickly out of the reach of that sword. He held the scalpel out as he passed, the blade following along the gold line. Fabric tore as it sliced through Micah's cloak, seeking skin.

It never made impact. Instead, it glanced off of something hard, a tight mesh of light that covered Micah's skin beneath his clothes. Shelley let out a grunt as the blow was repelled, the shock of impact traveling up Stein's arm to the elbow. He didn't give Micah a chance to recover, quickly planting his foot on the ground and pivoting so that he was facing Micah's back. As the boy looked over his shoulder, eyes wide, Stein gathered his wavelength into his free hand, a crazed look appearing in his eye as he slammed that hand into Micah's back.

Micah went rigid as Stein's wavelength poured into him, his back arching as he opened his mouth in a silent scream. Stein felt that armor push back against his wavelength, protecting Micah and responded by pouring more power into the attack, his grin widening. Cracks appeared in the mesh covering Micah's skin, small ones at first, and then larger ones until the armor shattered altogether with a sound like breaking glass as Micah was suddenly thrown away from him.

He struck the stone wall of the dungeon hard, faint trails of smoke rising from his body as he slid to the ground. A card fell out of his other hand as he landed, its edges black as if burnt. The Empress.

Micah sucked in a rattling breath, sliding one hand underneath himself. His shoulders shook as he pushed off the ground, propping himself up with one arm as he tried to get up. Immediately, about a dozen gold lines appeared in Stein's vision, all leading from the scalpel in his hand to various weak points on Micah's body, possible avenues for attack. He held the blade out beside him, feeling the wind that encased it, feeling his heart rate start to increase with the approach of madness.

Micah coughed, struggling to get back to his feet. And Stein rushed forward, not giving him the chance.

* * *

"Tch," Black Star said, hovering in the air above Death City. He looked up at that glowing light ahead of him, then back down at the city below, at the explosion that rocked the school. He scowled as Maka and Soul zipped past underneath them, hurrying to join Kid on their way back to the building. "Just like them, to run off when things are starting to get good."

" _You don't think we should go back too?"_ asked Tsubaki, looking over her shoulder in alarm.

"Nah," said Black Star, eyeing the group that had gathered around the school already. "They've got it covered. Besides—" His eyes moved away from the building, back to the light that hung in the air over his head. A grin appeared on his face. "—pulling people out of a collapsing building isn't my style. Not when there's someone like this to fight. Tsubaki!"

Tsubaki nodded sharply, transforming in his hands into a large black kunai, a strip of cloth tied around the hilt.

Shadow Star: Third Form - Severed Shadow.

Black Star caught it in his hand, hooking his finger through the hole near the handle of the kunai as he put on a burst of speed, charging into the light above them.

The light swelled up to meet him.

* * *

The sound of the blast rang through the air, coming from the DWMA. Rei's eyes widened, and he quickly used the Cloak of Shadows to pull himself out of a leap, landing on one of Death City's peaked rooftops as he spun around to face the school. A cloud of dust and smoke was rising from the building, the building itself leaning alarmingly to the side.

" _Whoa…"_ Ayame said, her eyes wide as she turned towards the sight.

"Tell me about it…" said Rei, his eyes on the building. He looked up quickly, scanning the sky, and saw Shinigami turn around, flying back towards the building. His opponent was nowhere to be seen.

Rei cast his Soul Perception out in a net around him, looking for Clark and Morgan. He was too far away from Clark now to feel him clearly, but he thought Clark seemed alright. Morgan's wavelength was just a block away from him now, her soul burning brightly in his vision. It was wrapped up tightly with Cassie's, as if she was fighting. Around him, he could feel several souls moving, converging on the school. His own parents zipped by overhead, heading back towards the school. It seemed like the blast had drawn everyone that didn't already have their hands full, people moving back towards the school in the confusion. From up here, he could see people abandoning fights and guard positions. His eyes moved back up, fixing on the school again.

" _We going back?"_ Ayame asked, as if reading the direction of his thoughts.

Rei didn't respond immediately, looking back in Morgan's direction. Her wavelength hadn't moved, although it had separated briefly from Cassie's, as though the blast had broken her concentration. He thought about it for a moment, looking back at the school. It seemed too convenient somehow. He didn't know what was going on, but he was fairly certain that whoever planned this would have known that a blast at the heart of the DWMA's power would draw all of Death City's defenders back towards it.

"No," he finally said, shaking his head. "There's way too many people heading back. Someone needs to stay out in the city. Let's grab Morgan and figure it out from there."

" _Right,"_ Ayame said, nodding. Rei reached for the kunai again, throwing them at the building across the street.

He pulled himself across the gap and dropped down into an alley, his Soul Perception spread out around him just in case there were any nasty surprises waiting for him there. The alley appeared in his mind in minute detail as he landed, his clairvoyance mapping out obstacles both in front of and behind him. He didn't see anything, but he remained cautious anyway, silently motioning for Ayame to take her ninjato form. Morgan and Cassie's souls burned brightly through the wall of the building next to him, and while he couldn't sense anyone else in the room with her, Morgan's soul continued to pulse as if she was struggling with something, or fighting. He reversed his grip on Ayame's ninjato form, holding the short sword out in front of him as he rounded the corner and stepped into the building.

There was a brief moment of blindness as he stepped in from the alley and closed the door behind him, his clairvoyance rearranging itself until he could 'see' the entirety of the room laid out behind him. It looked like they were standing in the backroom of a bar that hadn't yet been opened for the day. Morgan and Cassie's souls were just ahead, inside the bar itself. A closed door stood between him and them, and Rei frowned, creeping up to the door and pushing it open just a crack, allowing some of the ripples of his Soul Perception through.

Rei froze.

While in his Soul Perception, he could only see two souls—Morgan and Cassie's—his clairvoyance revealed _three_ people in the room. Morgan stood with her back towards the door, Cassie's weapon form in hand as she faced down a tall man whose features were in shadow. Rei pressed his back against the wall, barely daring to breathe as words drifted out through the crack in the door, their voices reaching him.

"…can't continue to protect you," the man was saying. "You know what will happen if she finds you here."

"I'm not going back, Uncle," Morgan said. "I don't care."

Rei's eyes widened.

_Uncle?_

"This childishness is only going to get you killed," said the man, beginning to sound angry. "Do you understand what will happen to you, what she will _do_ to you? Do you think I want to see—."

He broke off suddenly, and Rei felt his heart leap into his throat.

"…Uncle?" Morgan asked, her tone uncertain.

When the man spoke again, his tone was dangerous. "Someone's outside," he said. "Open the door, Morgan."

"But—."

"I _said_ open the door."

Rei's heart pounded in his chest as he felt Morgan moving, felt her approach the door. He wanted to run, told himself to run, but his body wouldn't obey him, remaining frozen in place. The door opened with a creaking sound, as if Morgan was reluctant. She peered out into the stockroom, turning towards him.

Her eyes widened as they met his, her hand falling away from the door.

 


	29. Attack Pt. 4; In the Face of Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter in the Attack on Death City story arc. I looked through my notes, and I think I have three major story arcs left (ones that are numbered with 'parts' instead of just chapter titles) until we get to the end of the fic. Hope you guys enjoy it, it's all downhill from here!

**CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT**

**Attack Pt. 4; In the Face of Fear**

* * *

Rei's eyes met Morgan's, and time seemed to slow to a crawl.

He stared at Morgan, his mouth dry, his heart beating quickly in his chest, and saw something that he felt reflected in her eyes, saw something familiar in the way that she stared at him. Fear. He had only seen Morgan afraid once before, only once, when he had confronted her about what he felt inside her soul. He couldn't even imagine what it could be, this thing that Morgan feared, this person that she called her uncle.

Her mouth worked, opening and closing, but she didn't speak, didn't say anything. Just clutched Cassie's grimoire form close to her side, staring at him like he was a ghost. Silent as a shadow, the man she had been talking to appeared behind her, his eyes narrowed as he looked down at Rei.

He was a tall man, tall and slender, and he towered over both Rei and Morgan, dressed in black. His dark hair fell down past his shoulders, his eyes were a deep, _deep_ red, a color that reminded Rei of dark wine. He brushed past Morgan as she stood frozen in place, staring down at him.

"A friend of yours?" he asked after a moment, looking down at the girl.

Morgan didn't answer him. Instead, she tightened her hold on the doorknob, lowering her eyes to the floor. Her fingers, clutching the brass handle of the doorknob, were shaking. "You shouldn't have come…" Rei heard her mutter under her breath. "You idiot…you shouldn't have come."

Rei blinked, finding his voice. "M-Morgan," he said, looking at her. "What—?"

"How did you find us, boy?" Mordred asked, turning his attention back towards Rei. " _Speak_."

The words died in Rei's throat. Inside her soul space, Ayame scowled, leaning forward angrily. _"Who the hell do you think you are?!"_ she said. _"You don't get to talk to us like that!"_

The man watched Rei as if he hadn't heard her, comprehension dawning in his eyes. "I see," he said. "The Evans boy. I should have known. Run home, child. This has nothing to do with you."

" _Are you going to just stand there and let him talk like this?"_ Ayame asked, whipping around to face him. Ahead of him, Morgan watched him, fear in her eyes. Rei tightened his grip on her hilt to keep his hand from shaking, gathering moisture into his mouth. He forced himself, against every instinct, to sink down into a crouch, to get into a fighting stance.

"I'm not leaving Morgan," he said.

"Rei—," Morgan began.

"Oh?" the man asked, interrupting her. His eyes moved over Rei, taking in his stance, and Rei had the sudden, sinking feeling that the man knew just how scared Rei was, knew how hard he was trying to hide it. "You see yourself as a knight in shining armor, boy? Here to rescue the fair maiden?" He snorted. "Don't make me laugh. My niece's attachment to you is the only reason why you aren't already smeared across this pitiful excuse for an establishment. _Leave._ "

" _Rei!"_ Ayame barked.

Rei grit his teeth, steeling his courage, and sank down further, holding the ninjato out in front of him. If he moved quickly, if he ducked and darted to the right, he might be able to get around Morgan, might get in close enough to the man to—to do something. He didn't know what yet, but he could do something.

The man simply watched him, unimpressed. "So you would fight?" he asked, half-turning away from Rei. "I see. Soul Perception, was it?"

It was like having a veil drawn away from his eyes. One moment, the man's Soul Response was muted, the next it was shining through, barely a sliver but enough to stop Rei in his tracks. He caught a glimpse of an immense soul, burning with power in the center of this man's chest, power and knowledge and the weight of a thousand years of experience. His blood ran cold, the color draining from his face. He stared at the man, stared at that power, and found that he couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but stand there and stare, his grip slackening on Ayame's ninjato form. Her eyes widened, and she spun around to face him.

" _Rei!"_ she said. _"Come on, Rei! Let's go! What are you waiting for?"_

Rei didn't respond, staring at the man behind Morgan. Fear seized his heart, trapping him in place. His breath caught in his throat. The man eyed him for a moment, meeting his eyes, then nodded, turning away.

"I thought so," he said, the glimpse of that soul vanishing as he drew it back within himself, shadows falling into place over it again. He looked back over his shoulder at Morgan. "Consider what I've said. I cannot hide you forever. One way or another, Morgan, I will return."

He walked past Rei, barely giving him another glance as he swept out into the street outside. The door closed behind him, the click unearthly loud in the small, confined space. Rei stared at the wall just past Morgan, hearing his heart beat loudly in his ears, hearing his breath quickening. He couldn't look at Morgan, couldn't face Ayame.

He lost his grip on Ayame's hilt, the short blade falling to the ground.

* * *

Micah wasn't willing to go down without a fight.

As Stein advanced, following one of the strands of possibility that Shelley had laid out for him, he leaped to his feet, letting out a hiss of anger. He pulled a card from his pocket, throwing it face-up on the ground as he dashed forward, holding his sword loosely in his hand. The gemstone hanging around his neck began to glow as light covered the face of the card—Strength.

Micah's movements were faster and sharper as he slashed sharply at Stein's stomach. Stein saw the movement an instant before it actually happened, a shadowy figure that resembled Micah breaking away from him to strike a half-second before Micah actually did. Stein leaped back, avoiding the blow, and the shadow split apart into about six different shadows, each one representing a possible attack. When Micah moved, selecting a possibility, the shadows coalesced, dwindling down to two or three.

It was too much information for any one person to take in, without the added support of Shelley's mental enhancement abilities. As it was, Shelley found herself working hard to keep up, her mind racing as she sorted through all of the possibilities, discarding ones that weren't likely and limiting the information only to what Micah was _most_ likely to do.

It was an easier task than it should have been, due in part to how well Shelley knew him.

Micah moved the sword with a flick of his wrist, slashing at Stein's throat. At Shelley's direction, Stein stepped out of the way, then reversed his grip on the scalpel, moving his hand backwards through the air and aiming the point of the blade at Micah's neck. Micah caught Stein's wrist just in time, the enhanced strength lent to him by the Strength card keeping the scalpel at bay. He glanced at it out of the corner of his eye, red eyes wide and regretful, and Shelley grit her teeth, his eyes filling up the whole of her vision.

" _Is that your actual weapon form?"_

_Shelley quickly transformed back into her human form, her face flushing at the question. Angela blinked at her, confused, but Shelley ignored her, turning towards the boy who had asked. He was a boy about her age, one she thought she recognized from her class. He blinked at her with wide red eyes, as if he wasn't sure whether he should have asked the question. Behind him, a slender girl with red hair watched, considering the exchange._

_The boy was still waiting for a response._

" _Um—y-yes," Shelley said, not sure what to say. She drew herself up to her full height, hoping that her face wasn't as red as she felt. "I don't use it often though—um—it's not very…"_

_The boy's face split into a wide grin before she could finish, a grin that lit up his eyes. "That's really cool!" he said. "You should use it more!"_

" _I—um—."_

" _I'm Micah," the boy said, holding out a hand. "What's your name?"_

" _I'm Shelley…" she said, hesitantly taking the boy's hand. "Shelley Stein…"_

Her hands clenched into fists at her side as her father ducked, lashing out at him with his foot. Stein's foot caught him just above the knee, driving him back and breaking the spell. The two of them sprang apart from each other, but the damage had been done.

In this form, she didn't really inhabit a physical body, but she thought she could feel her nails digging into her palm anyway.

In Stein's vision, the shadows and gold lines faltered, disappearing for a moment. He looked down at the scalpel in his hand, frowning. "Shelley?" he asked.

Shelley shook her head, placing a hand to her temple. _"I'm fine,"_ she said, sweeping her free hand through the air. The images appeared again, sharper this time as Micah charged again, letting loose with a flurry of thrusts and slashes. Shelley grit her teeth, realizing that she couldn't keep up with the movements. He was moving too fast, leaving too many possibilities. Micah would have figured out what she was doing and come up with a plan to counter it.

After all, he knew her about as well as she knew him.

Thankfully, her father was a gifted fighter even without her assistance. He stepped out of the way of each blow, the sword moving harmlessly past as he danced out of the way. Shelley eyed Micah's stance and form, looking for an opening. There! With a wave of her hand, a gold line appeared, slipping beneath Micah's strikes, inside his guard and straight through his ribs.

Stein took the opportunity immediately, ducking beneath the blow. He spun the scalpel around to orient the blade in the right direction, aiming for Micah's chest. Micah held up the Hierophant card before Stein's strike could connect, a domed shield rising up in front of him and pushing Stein back. Stein didn't stumble, jumping back and landing lightly on his feet a little ways away. His free hand crackled with energy as he moved through the cracked tunnel, kicking off of the rubble beneath him as he moved to flank Micah.

Micah had been expecting that. He looked over his shoulder as Stein came at him from behind, a card in his hand. The Hanged Man. Shadows coalesced behind Stein, forming a creature that looked like a bound man hanging upside down, blades extending from it as it arched towards them. Stein glanced at it out of the corner of his eye.

"Shelley."

Shelley nodded, reaching for the wind.

" _I was kind of wondering…" Micah said, looking up at her from the pile of books and papers that had been spread out across the library table between them. "When you use the wind in your weapon form, are you_ actually _using the wind, or are you just creating force?"_

_Shelley frowned, looking up over the essay she was working on. "I haven't thought about it before," she said. "Why do you ask?"_

" _It's just interesting, isn't it?" asked Micah, tilting his chair back and propping his feet up on the table. He stared up at the ceiling. "All of these things that Demon Weapons can do…it's really fascinating to me. I kind of want to know how they work. You know what I mean?"_

" _No," said Shelley, looking back down at her work. "Not really."_

 _Micah's eyes widened at her response, and he nearly toppled over backwards in surprise. "Not really?!" he asked. "But your dad's a_ scientist, _Shell! And you're brilliant! You must have helped with dozens of experiments!"_

_Shelley pursed her lips together tightly, looking back down at her work. She could feel her face starting to heat up again. "I just help," she said. "I can do math really well, and I'm good with organizing things…I do stuff like that. But I don't actually…" She trailed off, scribbling down an answer with a little more force than was required._

"… _think about stuff?" Micah finished for her, sitting back up._

" _I guess…"_

_Micah watched her for a moment, his gaze seeming to linger, and she flushed brighter, trying to concentrate on her homework. After a while, she felt his gaze drift away from her, heard the sound of rustling paper as he went back to his work. She gripped her pen tighter, trying to write, but the words wouldn't come. The silence stretched on between them, and finally Shelley let out a sigh, setting her pen down._

"I _think it's the wind," she said. "But then again, it's always the air directly around my weapon form, so it might actually be me, and maybe I don't know it…"_

The wind swirled around the scalpel as Stein thrust it at the Hanged Man, then pushed outward into a thousand tiny scalpel blades. The blades tore the Hanged Man apart, shadows scattering as the wind tore through it. Shelley clenched her fists tighter and blinked tears out of her eyes, trying not to cry.

In the physical world, Micah had launched himself at Stein while he was distracted with the Hanged Man, grabbing at him with one hand as he aimed the sword at Stein's chest. Stein reached out with his free hand, the hand still crackling with energy, and reached for him. Micah darted back, away from the blow, and Stein let out a pulse of his own wavelength, forming a small blast that knocked Micah back further. He landed crouched on the ground in the gloom of the tunnel, and Stein slammed his hand down onto the ground between him and Micah.

Thin strands of wavelength sprang up between him and Micah like thread, rooting him into and stitching him to the ground. Micah's eyes widened in fear and he struggled, trying to break free, but the stitches held fast. Stein turned to face him, his head tilted oddly to the side, and spun the scalpel in his hand, preparing for the final strike.

A hundred different possibilities distilled themselves down into one, a gold line snaking from the scalpel to Micah's throat.

Micah's eyes widened, staring at Stein in fear as he leaped forward, the blade held out. Shelley clenched her fists tighter as Micah's face filled her vision, as his eyes, wide and fearful, met hers, seeming to bore into her own soul. She could do this, she told herself, tears trickling down her cheeks as she stared into those eyes. Remember Luna. Remember _Luna._

" _If you want to go to that stupid dance so badly, then go!" Shelley yelled, whirling onto him with narrowed eyes and a face flush with anger. Micah advanced towards her, frowning down at her as if seeing her for the first time._

" _Go with Luna" she shouted. "Why do you even care about me?! Just go with Luna!" She lashed out at him in anger as he approached, her hand clenched into a fist. Micah caught her wrist, looking down at her. She looked back up at him, tears in her eyes, her silver hair escaping the braid she had put it in. Her hand beneath his hold was trembling._

_Her eyes met his, and she couldn't remember why she had been crying._

" _Maybe I don't want to go with Luna," he said, enfolding her into an embrace. "Did you even think of that? Maybe what I wanted was to go with you…"_

There was a tear in his eye. Just one, a single tear, gathering at the edge of his right eye. It hadn't fallen yet, just stayed there as he stared her father down, as he stared at her, coming closer. One second until impact…half a second…a quarter of a second. The lines converged as Stein bore down on Micah Cole, the scalpel pointed at his neck—

—then diverged again. Shelley squeezed her eyes shut, pulling away.

The scalpel jerked in Stein's grasp, missing his throat by a mile and cutting a thin line across the side of his cheek instead. Stein blinked in surprise, looking down at the blade in his hand.

Shelley shuddered, crouching down into a ball. She wrapped her arms tight around herself, her soul space beginning to fluctuate around her. There was a flash of light as Micah dug the Chariot card out of his pocket, and then he was gone.

* * *

The light swallowed him up, filling his vision. Black Star soared through it, the Severed Shadow gripped tightly in his hand as he rose, moving up and up through the light until he finally burst out…

…into nothing.

Black Star blinked as the light finally faded, leaving him and Tsubaki floating on the inside of what looked like a giant sphere. There was no Morrigan in here, no opponent waiting for a fight. There was, almost literally, nothing, nothing except for an orb that hung in the center of the space, crackling with power.

Black Star flew over to it, frowning down at it in suspicion. The orb hummed, occasionally letting out crackling waves of light. He placed his hand over one as it emanated from the wave, feeling it tingle through his fingertips as it passed through him. It was the same kind of feeling that he sometimes felt before finding a strong opponent, a sense of danger that he had become accustomed to over the years. He had no doubt that this was the same thing that Maka had sensed, when she pointed him in this direction.

He stared at the orb a moment longer, his frown deepening as it continued to crackle and pulse. Then, he let out a disappointed sigh.

"Boring…" he muttered under his breath, raising Severed Shadow and slicing through the orb.

* * *

"Mifune!"

Maka swooped down next to Mifune, skidding to a stop as she pulled up on Soul's handle. Next to her, the swordsman was facing the school, a clipboard in one hand. Rolls and rolls of yellow caution tape formed a perimeter around the school building, the DWMA's security forces already beginning to assemble search parties to go into the building and look for any students that might be missing. The oppressive wavelength that had been hanging in the sky was gone now, and the attack on the city had stopped. Maka paused to look up at that fading point of light, shielding her eyes from the sun.

She supposed it was too much to hope that Black Star had managed to defeat the Morrigan for good.

Mifune glanced at her as she leaped off of Soul, her partner beginning to transform back into his human form. Soul stepped away from her without a word, sinking back into his Death Scythe role with some apparent discomfort as he barked at someone to give him an update on the situation, one hand scratching at the back of his head.

"Is your class accounted for?" Mifune asked her.

"They were all out of the building when the blast went off," said Maka, but even as she spoke, she sank back into her Soul Perception, letting her eyes drift closed as she searched the city for her students. She found them, counting off each, single solitary soul, and let out a breath of relief. "They're alright," she told Mifune. "Many of them are heading this way now."

Mifune nodded, half-distractedly, his eyes moving back to the list. Somewhere off to his left, one of his deputies was shouting orders, putting together a volunteer group of students to do a search of the dispensary. The swordsman's eyes drifted towards them for a moment before moving back to her.

"Stay close," he said. "We might need your Soul Perception."

Maka nodded, walking towards the building. It had tilted in the blast, one of its spikes falling off, but still thankfully looked whole, and not in any danger of collapsing anytime soon. In the distance, she could hear Kid's plaintive whines as he crouched in front of the school, his arms stretched out towards it. Liz and Patty hovered over his shoulder, attempting to calm him down as students walked around him, pretending not to see. Behind her, Stein and some of the medics had put up a temporary medical tent, and Maka heard the occasional groan of pain coming from that direction.

People were hurt, she thought, but there weren't too many _serious_ injuries. And from what she could see in her flight over the city, while many buildings had been damaged, very few had actually been destroyed. Even the school had gotten out relatively unscathed— _relatively._ The building was tilted and asymmetrical, but it wasn't like it couldn't be repaired. The Morrigan hadn't even shown up.

All things considered, it could have been so much worse. They had gotten off easy.

So what was the point? Why bother attacking them at all?

She fixed her eyes on the building, a frown on her face. So many things didn't add up. The strange souls of the monsters that attacked them, this whole pointless endeavor. She was beginning to feel a creeping dread that she hadn't felt in years—not since Arachne, not since Medusa—the feeling that someone else was one step ahead of them the entire time.

Her frown deepening, Maka looked back over her shoulder at the medical tent. Stein had backed away from the cots and mattresses that the injured had been laid out in, taking a drink of water. Without any hesitation, Maka made her way over to him.

"Professor Stein."

Stein looked up at her, frowning at her over his bottle of water. His eyes were far off, almost unfocused, as if he wasn't fully there. From Stein, it wasn't a strange expression, but she looked past him anyway, to a darkened corner of the medical tent where Shelley sat hugging her knees, Marie seated on the ground next to her and looking worried. She looked back at Stein.

"Is Shelley alright?" she asked, her brow furrowing in concern.

Stein gave an odd sort of grunt in response, tipping the bottle back and draining it. He turned towards her as if seeing her for the first time. "Something you need?"

"You were in the dungeons, weren't you?"

Stein nodded again, glancing back over his shoulder at Shelley. His eyes focused briefly, for just long enough to land on her, before he looked away, raising a hand to his head to crank at his bolt. Some of the fog lifted as he turned towards Maka. "What about it?" he asked.

"Did you notice anything odd?" Maka asked. "Did you figure out what they were looking for?"

Stein frowned, shaking his head. From the look on his face, he had clearly been wondering the same thing, although his thoughts might not have been following…quite so ordered lines. "There's nothing of interest in the dungeons," he said. "We don't keep anything down there anymore."

"That's what I thought," said Maka, looking back at the school. Could the Morrigan have made a mistake? It didn't seem likely, but it was possible that they were overestimating her. She looked back at Stein, still uneasy, and thought back to the other thing that was still weighing on her mind, the issue of the strange souls. "One more thing…" she said. "Did you notice something strange about the souls of the monsters we were fighting?"

Stein nodded, raising one hand to his bolt before letting it fall back to his side. His expression became far off, contemplative as he considered the problem. "They appeared deformed somehow," he told Maka. "As if they were modified."

Maka nodded. "They seemed that way to me too," she said. "Also…one of the monsters apparently had two souls."

Stein gave her a meaningful look at that, and Maka lowered her eyes to the ground, thinking. "I know we've seen that before," she said. " _Once_ before. But…"

"…If I were doing research on this sort of thing," Stein said. "I wouldn't start from nothing. I'd work with what had already been established, what other people have figured out."

"Do you know something, professor?" Maka asked.

"Just a thought," said Stein. He took another sip of his water, then put a cap on the bottle, setting it aside. "I think your students are here."

Maka nodded, not needing to glance over her shoulder. She could feel them coming up the stairs with her Soul Perception—an entire group of them, carrying one of the injured between them. Yorick, she thought, reading the subtle fluctuations of their souls.

"Excuse me," she told Stein, turning towards them.

Stein nodded, going back to his work as she walked away.

* * *

Somewhere in the distance, the Morrigan felt it as the small vessel she had used to carry her power was destroyed, saw it reflected in the mirror she had placed in front of her, saw the disappointed, almost disgusted look in the warrior god's eye as he sliced through the orb. A smile tugged at her lips as she sank back into the cushions of the throne she was sitting on, her eyes on the mirror.

So the ruse had been discovered. Oh well. There were, she thought, quite a few more surprises left in store.

"You wanted to see me, Mother?"

The Morrigan looked up, her eyes landing on the sorcerer that had walked into the room, stopping a respectful distance from her throne. Mordred always moved so silently—but she still wasn't surprised whenever he came to see her. She doubted that anything Mordred did could surprise her anymore.

"You were successful, I see," said the Morrigan, gesturing at the mirror. "Despite certain…complications…"

"Yes," said Mordred. "It was exactly as you said. The Shinigami saw through the ruse. One of them, at any rate."

"Yes," said the Morrigan, frowning in thought. "One of them." She glanced at Mordred out of the corner of her eye. "I must say, however, that I'm disappointed with this boy. Grayson, did you say his name was?"

Mordred nodded, bowing his head. "He shall be punished," he promised.

"See to it," said the Morrigan, smiling. She leaned back into her seat, facing the mirror. "And Elaine? Has our dear Assassin's condition improved?"

"It appears as though she might wake soon," Mordred said. "Micah is with her now."

"Ah…Micah." The Morrigan's smile widened, the tips of her nails brushing against the side of her cheek. "That one amuses me. I trust he isn't injured too badly."

"No, Mother," said Mordred, keeping his head bowed.

"Good…" said the Morrigan, half-distracted. "Send him in to see me when he finishes with Elaine, Mordred. I have some things to discuss with him about his… _ties_ to the DWMA."

"Of course, Mother."

"And…," she added, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, "…begin making the preparations for our next move. It's time for our plans to move into their final stage."

Mordred bowed deeply. "As you wish," he said.

The Morrigan dismissed him with a wave, looking back at her mirror. The DWMA was being careful about mentioning her by name—she seemed to have lost her connection to the happenings in that place. But that didn't mean she didn't have hours and hours of footage to look back through, captured and recorded for her by all of those poor, modified souls she had sent out. She waved her hand vaguely in the air, searching through the wealth of information her servants had collected and finding the ones that she was particularly interested in, the ones involving a classroom, and two silver-haired scythe children.

The mirror froze on an image, one that the Morrigan considered for a long moment, her elbow propped up on the arm of her throne. A small girl, not even nine years old, looking up at the monster and screaming in fear.

And the black blood that surrounded her, poised to strike.

The Morrigan smirked, letting her hand fall back to her side. She drummed against the arm of her throne with slender, graceful fingers, her eyes on the image.

Final phase indeed…

* * *

Rei dreamed that he was falling.

He fell, further and further into darkness, his eyes wide and his mouth open in a scream that only he could hear as the darkness swallowed him up, consuming him. He stretched out his hand towards the point of light above him, that one, fleeting, dwindling point of light, but nothing he could possibly do would stop the fall. The darkness swallowed him up, consuming him, drowning him, until he landed on top of something soft and viscous, on top of something almost like water.

_Coward…_

Shadows reached up from the water, hands grasping at him, heads turning to face him. Sightless eyes stared at him wherever he looked, their voices accusing as they grabbed at him. Rei screamed and tried to jerk back, away from their grasp as he kicked at them, trying to shake them off of him. For each hand that he shook off, two more took its place, grasping him, grabbing at him, pulling him down, down into the depths.

 _Coward,_ they chorused, voices high and terrible. _Coward…_

"I'm not—!" Rei said, his eyes wide as he struggled to escape them. His legs were sinking into the liquid, his arms flailing as they tried to stop them from dragging him down. "Damn you!" he cried, as they dragged him in up to his neck, reaching for his head. "I'm not—I'm not—!"

Blackness filled his lungs as he gasped for breath, then his vision. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think. He was drowning—

He opened his eyes to the feeling of sunlight on his face, a breeze moving through the air. He was lying on the slope of a hill, in a green, grassy field. Green stretched as far as he could see in any direction, broken only by the hills that bordered him. There were no trees, no other plants, nothing but an endless blue sky and grasses that swayed in the breeze.

A shadow passed over the sun as he lay there, looking down at him. Rei tilted his head back in confusion, looking up, and found himself peering into a set of endless, gold eyes. A creature almost like a stag bent over him, made up of endless shifting patterns of black and white. It stared at him for a long moment, searching him, considering him…

* * *

Rei woke with a gasp, sitting up in bed.

It was dark, shadows hanging heavy in his bedroom. The moon was high in the sky, and he glanced up through his open window at it, jet black and grinning. A shiver coursed through him as he remembered the dream, his hands tightening their grip on his sheets. Anger followed not a moment after, anger at himself. His shoulders shook with it, and he bent over his sheets.

He stayed there for a moment, eyes squeezed shut, feeling the shudders run through him. Then, he threw the sheet off of himself and stood up, padding quietly past Ayame's sliding door—slightly ajar—and towards the bathroom. He flicked on the light, the harsh white light obliterating his night vision as he stood there, hands on either side of the sink, leaning forward so that he could look into the mirror. The water was running—he'd meant to wash his face—but he couldn't now. His eyes were fixed on the mirror, on himself, on the face that looked back at him.

Red eyes, messy blond hair, a pale face, one filled with fear. A coward's face. In that moment, he was standing in front of Mordred again, hearing Ayame scream at him, telling him to do _something_. He was standing in front of Grayson again, over a year ago, with Ayame screaming the same thing, with Grayson looking down at him.

Nothing had changed. A year of training, a year of growing stronger, and _nothing_ had changed. He was still a coward.

His grip tightened on the sink and he lowered his head, gritting his teeth.

Rei raised his fist and slammed it into the bathroom wall.

* * *

The thud of Rei's fist slamming into the wall echoed throughout the second floor of their apartment, hard enough to make Ayame's wall rattle. She lay on her side, listening as a choked sob drifted through the air, coming from the bathroom. Her fingers gripped her plush starfish closer to herself, her knees drawing up close to her chest from where she lay on the side of her futon.

She waited until she could hear Rei shuffling back to his room, until she could hear the door to his bedroom closing behind him.

Then, miserable, she closed her eyes…

* * *

**Omake**

Ayame frowned at Rei in the aftermath of the attack, watching as he walked off somewhere, standing apart from them. She looked back over her shoulder at Cassie.

"Are you gonna explain any of that?" she asked.

"Um…ask Morgan," said Cassie, looking uncomfortable.

In response, Ayame glanced at Morgan. The grimoire meister met her stare head on, her expression like stone. Clearly, she wasn't going to be very forthcoming. Ayame looked back at Cassie, about to ask her for help.

"Hey!" a voice shouted before she could, making her look up. "There you guys are!"

Vayne appeared at the end of the street, making his way over to them. Clark walked beside him, looking up at them sheepishly. As the pair reached them, Vayne reached out a hand, clasping Clark proudly on the shoulder. "Look who's back," he told the others, grinning.

Clark didn't meet their eyes, looking embarrassed. Ayame blinked, looking him over. He definitely _looked_ better than he had in a long while. He was standing taller, prouder, and looked unharmed, except for the purpling bruise on his jaw, as if someone had sucker punched him. As if...as if…

Ayame's eyes narrowed. "I don't _believe_ you!" she said, "Ugh, Clark, you can be such a _pig_!"

Clark blinked in confusion, looking up. "Uh—w-what—?"

In response, Ayame pointed accusingly at the bruise on his face. "That's _what,"_ she said. "You tried to hit on someone already?! What the _hell_?!"

"Huh?" Clark asked, raising one hand lightly towards the bruise on his cheek. His eyes widened. "N-No, wait, that's not—!"

"Ophelia's barely in the ground, you heartless monster—."

"—no, Ayame—it wasn't—I wasn't—a girl—."

"—couldn't even wait more than two weeks—."

"—it was Grayson!"

"You were hitting on _Grayson?!"_ Ayame screeched. Cassie let out a loud gasp, covering her mouth with her hand. Clark's face turned bright red.

"That's not—ugh, you know what, just forget it…"

Vayne shrugged his shoulders as Ayame went on, giving Morgan a quick smile. She eyed him out of the corner of her eye before raising her head, returning it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last Steins vs. Micah scene is brought to you by Krieg, the OST from Soul Eater, and the Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicles OST, particularly Strange Names, Ruthless and Break the Sword of Justice. Flashback scenes in that fight scene were written using (from the same soundtrack): you are my love, if you are my love, and ring your song. I also used Mass Destruction from the Persona 3 OST for the Clark vs. Grayson battle in the last chapter.


	30. Divided We Fall

**CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE**

**Divided We Fall**

* * *

Classes resumed two days after the battle, the DWMA's engineering team having grudgingly considered the building "safe for now". It was still slightly tilted. The blast had taken out several critical supporting walls in the basement, and those would have to be repaired before the school could be made perfectly level, but it was level enough to allow the building to be occupied again. Aside from the slight tendency for things that were placed on a flat surface to roll in the direction of the tilt—Professor Stein's chair went sliding out of his classroom door and all the way down the hall towards the other side of the building on the first day of class, with Stein sitting in the chair looking mildly confused but mostly bored for the entirety of the journey—and the occasional sight of Shinigami pacing the school's halls trying in vain to straighten out portraits and pressing a level up against every conceivable surface, muttering to himself, things seemed to be returning to some sort of normalcy.

Angela completed her circuit of the Death Room, her hands spread out in front of her as she inspected her handiwork. Glowing threads of magic crisscrossed the walls of the room, so faint that they only became apparent when she laid her hand on them. She could feel the power coursing through them, rippling beneath her fingertips, and she frowned, searching through the network of lines for any tears or possible problem areas. She couldn't find any, but that didn't mean that there _weren't_ any problems. This was a surprisingly intricate piece of magic—she wasn't even sure if she would have been _capable_ of it had it not been for Shelley's ability to enhance mental capacity—and unfortunately, her talents didn't exactly edge her towards these sorts of delicate workings.

Still, the web was as tight as she could make it, so she nodded to herself, taking a step back. As she did, the gold lines that represented the magic threads faded from her vision, and she reached down, tapping the scalpel that she had slipped carefully through the fasteners of the sling bag she was wearing. "You can transform back now, Shell. Thanks."

There was a flash of light, and Shelley Stein appeared beside her, adjusting her glasses. It took her a moment to meet Angela's eyes, a fact that didn't particularly make Angela feel better. She had heard from the grapevine what had happened between Shelley and Micah, but Shelley herself didn't seem particularly keen on talking about it.

"All done?" Shelley asked, looking at the Death Room's walls, although of course the magic was invisible now.

"I think so," said Angela, looking back over her shoulder at the assembled group. A select collection of DWMA's staff (the ones that didn't presently have classes to teach) had been assembled there, standing around Shinigami. They were all watching her. "This should stop the Morrigan from being alerted to conversations about her, or about conflict in general," Angela said. "I've never done a spell like this before, so I can't promise that it's perfect, but it should keep her off of our backs for a little while."

Shinigami nodded, motioning for her to rejoin the circle. She did, grateful for the fact that the DWMA agents standing there made room for her. After what had happened with the Morrigan, she wasn't entirely sure how the DWMA would treat her when she returned, but the fact that she had grown up here seemed to carry more weight with them than the fact that she was a witch, and of course, Mifune's security team treated her with all the respect and protectiveness that gang members might have for a mafia princess.

Not that Mifune would ever appreciate the comparison.

"How does the Witch Assembly feel about what happened?" Shinigami asked, officially opening the meeting.

"They aren't pleased," Angela said. "They don't like the fact that the Morrigan broke treaty, or that she hasn't been responding to any of their summons."

"Are they going to help us fight her?"

Angela glanced down at the ground, embarrassed. She clasped her hands behind her back, scuffing the floor with one foot. "…They aren't going to stop us," she said, finally. "Some elements of the Witch Assembly want to go up against the Morrigan personally, but most of the council is…hesitant, given the Morrigan's history with the DWMA."

"Her daughter," said Shinigami with a nod, already familiar with the issue.

Angela nodded back. For the benefit of those in the room who didn't know, she raised her head, turning to look at them. "The Morrigan claims that her daughter, Morgana, was killed by a DWMA agent roughly thirteen years ago and that her soul was taken from her. The issue was investigated by the DWMA and the Witch Assembly separately at the time, and results remain inconclusive."

Sid nodded. "There was evidence of a battle," he said. "But we couldn't tell exactly what happened. The agent that the Morrigan blames was dead by the time we got there."

"In any case," Angela said, "It looks like the Witch Assembly isn't going to be able to act on this until these internal issues get cleared up. Which…might take a while." Unlike the DWMA, the Witch Assembly didn't always have the strongest perception of time.

"Eh, who needs them?" asked Black Star, his arms folded from where he stood, across from Shinigami. "We can deal with the Morrigan ourselves."

"I'm inclined to agree," said Shinigami, although he frowned as he said it. He looked around the room. "The first thing we have to do is find her. How are we doing with that?"

Soul shrugged, glancing down at the papers he held in one hand. He squinted down at them, in a way that told Angela _someone_ might have to respectfully broach the subject of reading glasses to him some time soon, but it wasn't going to be her. "The European branch sent a team out to Avalon, where the Morrigan was reported to be living, but she was gone by the time they got there. It didn't look like anyone had been living there for months."

"Sid?" Shinigami asked.

"Working on it, Shinigami-sama," Sid said, standing up a little straighter. He glanced at Hestia, Mifune's appointed representative from the security team, who was standing beside him. "There's a chance that the Morrigan might have left people in the city."

"We're doing a thorough search of Death City," Hestia said, frowning as if she resented the question. "So far, we haven't found anything, but we're increasing security in the meantime."

"What about the students?" Tsubaki asked. "Grayson-kun was recruited while he was still in school. How do we know she isn't recruiting more?"

"We don't," said Soul, scowling in frustration. "Not without doing random searches of the kids to see if they have any of those cards on them, and even then we might miss one. The teachers are giving the 'if you see something, say something' spiel in homeroom today, but even then, we might miss something."

"We can't watch every single student at this school," said Kid. "It would be impractical. The best we can do is make sure they know the consequences of defection, and keep all information about this matter on a need to know basis."

"There's one thing we haven't considered," said Angela, the thought striking her at just that moment. It made her go slightly cold for a reason she couldn't name, a gut feeling that was just on the edge of uncomfortable. "She has to be promising these kids something. Grayson, Micah—." Shelley flinched beside her, but otherwise said nothing. "There has to be a reason why these people decided that switching sides was the best option."

Hestia shrugged. "Power? Revenge? Knight was a bully who got expelled. It's not that difficult."

"That might work for Grayson, but Micah is an entirely different kind of person." She drew in a breath, aware from the way that Shelley tensed up beside her that she was hurting her partner. She felt guilty about that, but it had to be done. There were certain things that needed to be said. "He's sensible. Intelligent—almost too intelligent. It would have to be something more than just power."

There was silence. Beside her, Shelley spoke in a very soft voice, not looking up at anyone.

"He said he wanted to 'change the world'…"

No one spoke for a moment more, taking it in. As the silence dragged on, Shinigami looked up. "This goes back to the fundamental problem," he said. "We still don't know what she's after, what her plan is. The sooner we can understand that, the sooner we can deal with her." He looked over at Angela. "Did the Morrigan have any close friends among the witches?"

"Not…particularly," said Angela, frowning as she thought about it. "She had sisters—the Badb and the Macha—but they were killed centuries ago. The Morrigan never really got over it—she became known as a recluse after that." There was _someone_ close to her that the DWMA had access too, though. Someone very close by: Morgan Fay. Angela kept that bit of information to herself for now, although it killed her to do it, clenching her fists so hard behind her back that her nails dug into her hand.

"We'll keep looking," Shinigami said. "Look through the records for past encounters with her—she might have said or done something in the past that could point to her plans now. And the witches could still be a valuable resource. It's hard to believe that she wouldn't have spoken to _any_ of them." He looked around the room, eyeing each of them in turn. "Our first priority is to find her, our second, to find out what her plans are, and our third is to keep the school and the city safe from any further attacks. The intelligence agency is already working on the first issue and security's working on the third, so I'd like everyone who doesn't already have a task to work on the second. The sooner we find out what she's up to, the better. Any questions?"

No one spoke. After a moment of silence, the meeting was dismissed.

* * *

Shelley stood on the DWMA's balcony and watched the sun as it made its steady path towards the western horizon, quietly wishing that she had something to drink. The thought of heading home for the rest of the day appealed to her, but she knew it made her parents worry less that she was here, visible, standing in the center of the DWMA's relentless stream of activity and not off hiding in some dark corner. If she was being honest with herself, it made _her_ feel more in control to be standing here where everyone could see her. The last thing she wanted was a repeat of the incident at the bar a few months ago.

She drummed her fingers against the railing and considered the very real, frightening fact that she was falling apart.

It wasn't like Shelley to break down. All throughout her childhood, she had felt people's eyes on her, watching her, looking for any sign of the madness that seemed to lurk in her bloodline. And the whole time, she had been steady almost to a fault. Calm. Sane. Almost _boring_. At some point, everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief and decided that whatever it was that drove her father to dissect creatures and catalog their insides had skipped a generation.

Before Micah, she wouldn't have said that anything could get under her skin. But then _he_ had somehow, and now she couldn't get him out. Couldn't free herself from him.

She couldn't kill him, but neither could she let him live.

Shelley tightened her grip on the balcony railing, her mind going back through those last few moments in vivid detail, playing the moment when she decided to pull back over and over again. If she had just stayed on course, if she hadn't showed weakness—but no. She'd known, she still knew, that if she _had_ managed to kill Micah then, it would have destroyed her.

It would have taken away whatever claim to sanity she had left.

She drew in a rattling breath, hating him. And not.

"Thinking of jumping?" The voice, almost casual and intensely familiar, made her straighten up, made her exhale and force her fingers to uncurl from their vise grip on the balcony railing. "Please don't do that. Your mother would never forgive me."

"You don't already have a clone ready to go?" Shelley asked, looking at her companion out of the corner of her vision.

Franken Stein walked up to the balcony beside her, inhaling deeply like he was taking a drag on a cigarette that wasn't there. "She's at least three years from operational," he said, the sunlight reflecting off his glasses. "And your mother will know. Somehow."

In spite of herself, Shelley felt the faintest brushes of relief. Sarcasm seemed to be her and her father's natural mode of communication with each other. If they could joke around like this, it meant that things weren't entirely as bad as she had thought. It meant that he, at least, had pulled back from the edge of madness. For the first time in a long time, she wasn't sure the same thing could be said about herself.

"It's the nose," Shelley said, gesturing vaguely at her face. "You just can't get my nose right."

"True," Stein said, peering down at her from over the tops of his glasses. "I maintain that that doesn't come from _my_ side of the family."

Shelley sniffed in reply, looking back out at the expanse of Death City. There. Opening pleasantries exchanged. Her fingers curled and uncurled from around the railing as she stood there, waiting. Stein stood beside her for a long moment, not speaking, and she knew, understood without words that he was building up to something. Her father rarely came to talk with her about life issues, preferring to leave that task to Marie. The flip side of that meant that when he did talk, she tended to listen.

Eventually, he drummed his fingers against the railing, looking back at her. "I shouldn't have made you do that."

Shelley didn't respond, keeping her eyes fixed on the distance. She kept her hands on the railing, recognizing that if they weren't firmly clasped onto something, she would be tangling them in her skirt, making her look further distressed. Her mind was still cycling through its parade of memories, ending in the moment when she pulled away. "You had to," she finally settled on. "I thought I could."

Stein 'hmm'ed in response, still not looking at her, and Shelley half-wished that her mother would pop her head out onto the balcony and ask them if everything was alright, if only to spare the two of them a couple more moments of awkwardness. It didn't look like Marie was willing to intervene this time, though.

"I was considering…" Stein finally said, glancing at her, "…maybe it's time you took a break."

And there it was, the reason for the conversation. Shelley allowed herself to draw her arms back and fold them across her chest, aware that on some level, it might make her look petulant. She exhaled, adjusting her glasses and glancing at her father. "A vacation?" she said, flatly. "Really?"

Stein shrugged in reply, looking almost guilty. She had a sudden vision of her parents meeting with Shinigami, of whispered conversations going on behind her back. There had been a lot of those over the past two—almost three years. Ever since her long-time boyfriend decided to go on a murder spree. Important conversations that had once valued her input as the calm, steady alternative to her father suddenly went on without her, as if she was someone too fragile, too damaged in some way to contribute to them.

The worst part was that given the way she had been acting lately, she couldn't really blame them.

She let out a frustrated sigh, pushing the hair up and out of her face and hoping that it didn't make her look like a child. "I don't need a vacation," she said. "And I'm not going to take one. There's too much to do here." Stein shrugged his shoulders in resignation, a gesture that seemed to say 'I tried' without saying it at all. Shelley had a feeling that he wouldn't belabor the point. Her own mental state aside, she wasn't _wrong_. There was a lot to do, and she _was_ needed. As a witch, Angela was powerful in her own right, but her magic didn't exactly have destructive potential. Without her, Angela didn't have a weapon. There was only one other currently unattached weapon with the skill required to do the sort of jobs she and Angela often did, and it was just _wrong_ to make a sweet girl like Angela be forced to partner up with Spirit Albarn.

But it didn't look like her father was willing to concede _everything._

"At least take yourself out of the Micah Cole investigation," he said, and _that_ wasn't phrased as either a suggestion or a question. Shelley debated the pros and cons of arguing the point.

"Micah, the Morrigan, it's all the same investigation," she said, shrugging her shoulders in frustration. She drew in a deep breath, letting her hands fall slack at her side. "But…I see your point. I'll sort records in the library. Maybe _that_ will give us some clue about what the Morrigan is planning."

And would be just enough work to keep her mind off of Micah, and to keep her busy enough that she was no longer at risk of making a fool of herself in public. As far as she was concerned, that was a win-win.

Apparently, her father seemed to agree too, because he nodded, looking back out over the city. Shelley watched him for a moment, standing there in the afternoon light. She felt like a child for a moment, coming to spend the day with him at the DWMA, and it was a disconcerting feeling, considering that she was nearly twenty-three. "…Was there anything else, Dad?" she asked, trying to sound a little more in control of herself.

"One more thing," said Stein, still not looking at her.

"Yes?"

Stein turned his head slightly towards her, but not fully, so that he was still looking at her out of the corner of his eye. "Angela's probably going to get sent back to the Witch Assembly at some point. Shinigami will need her to negotiate with Maba."

"I realize that," said Shelley.

"There's a chance you might not be able to accompany her," said Stein.

Shelley frowned, watching her father. Slowly, he turned towards her, facing her fully. He didn't speak, just looked down at her with his head slightly tilted to one side, not moving to bridge the gap between them. She thought about what he had said. It wouldn't be the first time that Angela had gone to the Witch Assembly without taking her, in fact, it happened often enough that it was almost depressingly routine. She had never had a problem with staying in their apartment by herself.

Until now.

"…And?" she prompted, watching her father closely.

He reached out stiffly, grabbing onto her shoulder and turning her until she faced him. Shelley blinked in surprise, meeting his eyes from over the tops of her glasses.

"Come home."

Her mouth opened to protest, more out of long-standing habit than anything, but as she searched for them, she realized that she didn't actually have the words.

* * *

The wind whipped its way through the trees, but today at least, it didn't seem to bring any relief from the oppressive heat. Rei wiped the sweat off of his face with an arm, scowling in frustration as he blinked grit out of his eyes. It was hot, and he was tired, his muscles ached, his head hurt and he found himself hating _everything,_ from the way his clothes clung to his skin to the impatient look in Ayame's eye as she frowned down at him, hands resting on her hips, to the way the sun leered down at them from above, laughing as if it was laughing specifically at him.

He hated it. The sun, the heat, his weakness, all of it. He was just _sick_ of it all.

"What's the point?" he muttered under his breath, pushing himself up to his feet. Ayame arched her eyebrows at him, a spark of anger appearing in her eyes. She stared up at him as he stood back up, rubbing at the spot on his ribs where her fist had struck before knocking him down.

"What did you say?" Ayame asked.

"I said, ' _what's the point_ '?!" Rei repeated, raising his voice this time. He whirled onto her, fists clenched at his side, not caring that the two of them were standing in the middle of the training forest on school grounds, not caring who heard them. His mind was still full of images, sensations and memories—Grayson, sneering at him, Morgan's uncle, watching him, hands grasping him and dragging him down. "What's the point of all this training? I'm not getting any better. I'm not _going_ to get any better. I'm—."

"—You _are_ getting better!" Ayame said, taking a step forward to meet him. "You're getting better every—."

"No," Rei said, interrupting her. "I'm _not_."

Ayame's mouth snapped shut as he spoke, and she blinked at him, straightening up and lowering her hands back to her side. There was a question in her eye as she watched him, looking him over. "What's gotten into you?" she asked, after a moment of silence. "You're not usually like this."

"Yeah, well, maybe I just got tired of doing something pointless," said Rei, running a hand through his sweat-slicked hair. _A year,_ he thought, resisting the urge to tangle his fingers in it and pull. _Training for a year, and nothing._ He exhaled, not meeting her eyes as he forced himself to lower his hand back to his side. "You know what, I'm just going to go home. Sorry to waste your time."

_One whole year, and still a coward..._

He moved to pass her, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Ayame didn't move until he was just about to pass her, and then her arm shot out, blocking his path. Her eyes were shadowed by her hair. "We aren't finished training," she said, her eyes on the ground.

Anger bubbled up inside of Rei, anger and rage and frustration. He was angry at himself, angry at his own failure, angry that he couldn't be the person he wanted to be. The pressure built up inside of him, pushing him to his breaking point. He clenched his fists tightly, letting his nails dig into his palm. One last effort to keep himself under control, to stop himself from blowing up in front of her. " _I_ say I'm done training," he said. "And I'm going home."

"You know, you're unbelievable!" Ayame said, her eyes snapping up to meet his. She blinked her eyes rapidly, clenching her fists. "Whine, whine, whine. If you just trained a little harder—."

The pressure built and built inside of him, anger welling up until something cracked. He didn't realize he was shouting until he was, didn't realize that he was moving until he was standing right in front of her, until she was leaning back to look up at him. "It doesn't matter how hard I train, it doesn't matter how much practice we get, it doesn't matter _what—you—do_ — _"_ He jabbed his finger at her, underscoring each word. "—None of it matters because I'm never going to be as strong as _you_!"

Silence fell over the training forest, the only sound that of the wind moving through the trees and the sound of ravens cawing softly into the distance. Ayame stared up at him, her eyes wide, and he realized belatedly that there were tears in them. She stared up at him, shock written all over her expression, and he felt the guilt almost as a physical thing, tying his stomach in knots. His hands were in the air, frozen in the middle of an expansive gesture. He lowered them slowly to his side, blinking at her.

"Ayame…" he began.

She drew in a breath that sounded more like a cross between a hiccup and a gasp, taking a step away from him. Ayame lowered her eyes to the ground, wringing out her fists. Her shoulders slumped, and Rei almost wished that she would yell back, almost wished she would hit him, or curse at him, or do anything but stand there and look so…so defeated.

"Ayame—," he tried again.

"—You've made your point, Rei," Ayame said, raising her eyes suddenly to meet his. She forced a grin onto her face and lowered her eyes just as suddenly, tugging her hair over her shoulder. She ran her fingers through it as she spoke, speaking to the ground instead of him. "You've made your point…" she said, softer this time. "…Maybe you're right. Maybe I am being too hard on you. So you stay here. I'll go home."

She took a step forward, brushing past him. Rei's eyes widened, and he reached for her arm. "Ayame—."

" _Don't_!" Ayame said sharply, dancing just out of his reach. He missed her by millimeters, his hand falling back to his side. She looked up at him, her eyes wide for an instant before she looked away again. "Just…don't, Rei. Okay? I'm sorry. I'll leave you alone."

"Don't do this…" Rei began, hating himself for the pleading note that crept into his tone. Ayame opened her mouth to respond, eyes flashing.

A shrill ring rang out through the quiet of the training forest, stopping her before she could speak. The two of them turned at once, their eyes moving towards the bags that they had left beneath one of the trees. The ringing sound continued, becoming more and more insistent, and after a moment's hesitation, Ayame moved forward, crouching in front of his backpack and drawing out his phone. She blinked at the screen for a moment before raising the phone to her ear, the phone breaking off mid-ring.

"Yeah?" she asked, speaking into it before Rei could even think to ask her why she was answering _his_ phone for him. He stared at her, helpless, as she turned half-away from him, looking up at the sky or trees as he spoke, looking anywhere _but_ at him. "Yeah—yeah, okay—yeah, I'll tell him."

She hung up, looking over her shoulder at him. Her eyes met his with some reluctance, as though she didn't want to be talking to him at all, even though she was holding his phone. "That was Morgan," she said. "She wants us to come over. She has something to say."

A million things whirled through his mind at once, a thousand questions, ten thousand meaningless statements, a hundred thousand abortive apologies. He stared at Ayame as her eyes slid off of his again, still not looking at him for any longer than was necessary.

_Morgan…_ he realized, the thoughts slowly beginning to work his way through the quagmire that had settled somewhere in his brain. _Something to say…_

There was really only one answer to that. He nodded mutely and turned, going to collect his things.

* * *

Vayne rang the doorbell, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he rocked back onto his heels and glanced at Clark beside him. Morgan and Cassie lived on a first floor apartment just a few blocks from Rei and Ayame's, in a building that primarily served as DWMA student housing. If he remembered correctly, a pair of upperclassmen lived on the third floor of the building, and the second floor was occupied by a single, lonely staff member.

Clark looked at him out of the corner of his eye, studying the building. "You've been here before?" his partner asked, as they waited for someone to get the door.

Vayne shrugged. "Once or twice," he said. "I came by to see Morgan, when she wasn't feeling well."

Clark gaped at him. Vayne decided to ignore that, fighting off a grin. He drummed his fingers against his pant leg as he waited, the grin fading as he thought through what brought them here, at the way Morgan's voice had sounded when she called them and asked them both to come over as soon as she could.

She hadn't sounded afraid, or worried. She only sounded resigned, which, while normal for Morgan, seemed to bother him more than if she had been actively distraught.

He told himself it was probably nothing, but he couldn't quite make himself believe that as she opened the door, peering out at the street through the crack before swinging it open wider. It was dark inside the house, the curtains drawn over the windows. Vayne had only been here twice before, but he liked to think that he knew Morgan, and he guessed that that was a bad sign. He offered her a tentative smile, one that her eyes flicked to before sliding away and looking off at the corner instead. She didn't return the smile or meet his eyes.

Alright, then. A _very_ badsign.

"Hey, Morgan," he said, trying to make it sound like he hadn't noticed. "We came as soon as we could. Everything alright?"

Morgan didn't look up at him as she spoke, barely looking at him or Clark. "Follow me," she said, turning and walking back into the living room.

Vayne and Clark followed, the door swinging closed behind them. With the front door closed, the house was even darker than he had thought, oppressive shadows gathering and pooling in the corners. Morgan didn't speak, didn't look up at them as she led them into the living room, where Cassie and the others were waiting.

There, Vayne noticed another bad sign. Rei and Ayame weren't sitting together. They weren't even looking at each other. The two of them had taken seats on the floor at opposite sides of the room, and were both clearly looking at anything else _but_ each other. He exchanged a glance with Cassie, who was perched on the edge of the couch looking nervous, and she shrugged her shoulders in reply, the universal gesture of 'I have no idea'.

Inwardly, Vayne sighed. Of course, he thought, Ayame and Rei had to be fighting _now._ He looked between the two of them before patting Clark on the shoulder and going to sit with Rei, dropping down onto the carpet beside him. He thought about asking Rei what was wrong, but decided against it. Morgan was the one who had invited them here. No point in turning this into the Rei and Ayame Hour. Whatever it was could wait.

Clark looked helplessly around the room for a moment before taking a seat on the couch next to Cassie, scooting away from her and leaning against the arm as if nervous that she would object to his presence.

Cassie didn't even seem to notice. Her eyes were on Morgan. A teapot and a tray of cups sat on the table in front of her, untouched.

Morgan remained standing in the hallway that led to the front door, looking at the five of them. She ran a hand through her hair and drew in a deep breath, seeming to struggle with something. Her fingers combed through her long black hair, curling and tugging slightly as she reached the end. Then, as if coming to a decision, she looked up at them.

"I'm a witch," she said, without preamble.

Vayne stared at her with wide eyes, his mouth dropping open. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Clark doing the same, blinking at her like a deer in the headlights. Cassie's shoulders slumped with released tension, and she leaned back in the couch, her hands clasped together in her lap, and Ayame was sitting up straighter, looking at Morgan. Tellingly, other than Cassie, Rei was the only one who didn't look too surprised.

He also wasn't looking at Morgan, still seeming lost in his own world, but four pairs of eyes on her still seemed too much. A flush crept up her cheeks, visible in the gloom, and her fingers curled into tight fists at her side before uncurling. She drew in another breath. "I didn't want to tell you. But it's probably going to come out anyway."

He wanted to ask a million questions, but his brain and his mouth didn't seem to be communicating, because he thought he managed several broken-off 'how's, 'what's and 'why's before he came to his senses and clamped his lips together, looking over his shoulder at the others. Clark stared at Morgan for a long moment before shaking his head, like a swimmer who had just broken the surface of the water.

"Why hide that?" he asked, which was much more coherent than anything that Vayne had been about to ask.

Morgan lowered her eyes to the ground, one of her arms going up to clutch at the other. "I was scared," she said. "I didn't know how you would react. And…I wasn't sure you wouldn't tell Shinigami-sama about me."

"Well, why _can't_ Shinigami know?" asked Ayame, her voice oddly loud in the quiet room. "It's not like you're the only witch at the DWMA!"

"It's not…it's not Shinigami I'm hiding from," said Morgan. "It's the Witch Assembly."

"But _why_?" Ayame asked. "You're like—fourteen. What does the Witch Assembly even want with you?" Morgan exchanged a helpless look with Cassie, not answering. She lowered her eyes to the ground as Ayame continued her line of questioning. "Does this have anything to do with that guy we ran into? What's going on, Morgan? What aren't you telling us? Why—?"

"Enough, Ayame."

The voice was Rei's, spoken softly into the quiet of the room. He still wasn't looking up at her. Ayame stared at him, eyes wide, but her mouth closed and she fell silent. She clenched her fists so tightly that they trembled, bowing her head and looking away again.

She didn't say anything more. Unfortunately, that meant nobody did.

Vayne drew in a slow breath. Morgan was still standing in the center of the room, looking down at the ground like she was on trial, like she wished that she could be anywhere else.

Somehow, he managed to find the words.

"You're not pulling our legs?" Vayne asked. "You're really a witch?"

Morgan nodded, looking miserable. "Really."

Vayne exhaled, forcing himself to relax. He forced himself to sit back down, forced his fingers to let go of their sudden tight grip around his knee. "Well, alright."

That made her look up. Morgan blinked at him, looking surprised. "Alright?" she repeated.

"Sure," said Vayne. "I mean, I can't speak for everyone, and I'm not happy you've been keeping this, but you probably had your reasons. You're still the same Morgan, right? So…alright."

Clark stared at him as Vayne fell silent, eyes wide. As the quiet descended over the room again, he blinked and seemed to recognize his cue, turning back towards Morgan. "I'm alright with it too," he said, hurriedly "It's not like the rest of us don't have any secrets."

Rei shrugged, as if to say that it didn't particularly matter to him. Vayne wanted to kick him, but he looked like he was struggling with something on his own, and Morgan didn't seem to mind. Ayame scowled, looking at nobody in particular. Cassie glanced at her.

"Ayame?" Cassie asked.

"I'm thinking," Ayame said, her voice surprisingly sharp. She looked at Morgan, her eyes narrowed. "You're still on our side, aren't you?"

"Yes," Morgan said, seeming taken aback by the turn things were taking. "…Of course."

"Then I don't care," Ayame said. "I'll keep your secret. But I'm not going to like it."

Morgan stared at them, wide-eyed, as if she hadn't been expecting things to turn out this way at all. Impossibly, tears started to form in her eyes—she blinked to keep them away. Vayne stared at her. He thought he was more surprised by the tears than by anything else that Morgan had said, and from the looks of the people around him, he wasn't the only one.

"I—." Morgan sucked in a breath, not looking at them. "—Thank you. Thank you. I want to tell you more, but—."

"It's connected to our enemy, isn't it?" Rei asked, looking up and turning towards Morgan for the first time. Maka-sensei had sat them down on their first day of class after the attack, warning them that the Morrigan could possibly listen in to conversations that involved her, and to be careful with what they said. Morgan nodded slowly, but didn't respond in any other way, her eyes widening. "Then that's alright," Rei continued. "You don't have to say anything."

He went back to looking at the ground. Morgan nodded, still looking stunned, one hand closed loosely over her chest.

She was on her way to a seat when something happened, surprising all of them.

Clark stood up. He didn't look at anyone in the group, keeping his eyes on the ground. His fists were clenched at his side, his face pale. His hands were shaking.

"Everyone," he said, his voice surprisingly steady in the quiet of the room. Vayne blinked at him. "I also have something to say…"

 


	31. Souls in Accord

* * *

**CHAPTER THIRTY**

**Souls in Accord**

* * *

"… _I think the Assassin is my mom."_

Rei lay on his back on the couch in his apartment, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as Clark's words played themselves over and over again in the back of his mind. Morgan's confession, he had been expecting, and she had told him nothing that he hadn't already been able to figure out, but Clark had taken him off-guard, and for some reason, he couldn't stop himself from picking over Clark's words, like a dog with a bone. A part of him, the sane, rational part that had been strangely silent since the incident with Morgan's uncle, told him that he had just seized on Clark's story because it stopped him from thinking about Ayame.

The apartment was quiet. Ayame had disappeared up the stairs shortly after they arrived from Morgan and Cassie's place, and hadn't come back down. He'd spent the evening puttering around the first floor, using every excuse conceivable to avoid going upstairs. At some point, he'd heated a dinner that had turned to ash in his mouth. The food that he had left out for Ayame remained on the counter, untouched.

Unable to stop himself, he sat up and glanced over into the darkened kitchen. The plastic container of pasta sitting on the countertop seemed like an accusation. His mind reached for Clark's story as a distraction again, but somehow, the intricacies of what Clark's mother being on the enemy side meant for their team and whether or not Clark would be able to fight her if it came to that and what Clark had to be going through to even suspect that his mother had killed Ophelia—all of those things didn't seem to carry weight with him anymore.

His mind was back on Ayame. On what he had said to her. On the way that she had folded into herself, the way she still wouldn't look him in the eye. He'd crossed a line. In the back of his mind, he was aware of that fact, but he was still too afraid to face it.

Afraid. Fear.

He was doing it again, the same thing he always did. He was going to let his partnership die because he was too afraid to go upstairs and tell his weapon, his _partner,_ the girl who had risked her life with him on more than one occasion, that he was sorry. That he had lashed out at her because he had been afraid.

Envious, and afraid.

He sucked in a breath, staring up at the ceiling. His hand tightened over his chest, clenching into a fist. Everyone he had ever been afraid to face ran through his mind in turn—Grayson, Micah, Morgan's uncle. Everyone he had ever been envious of followed them, everyone that he had ever feared being compared to, everyone that he was sure he would never measure up against. His parents. Vayne, with his ability to take emotional blows and get back up again like no one's business. Ayame.

He stood up, getting to his feet.

Rei made his way quietly up the stairs, feeling a knot in his throat like he was holding his breath. The second floor was dark and quiet. He shuffled quietly over to Ayame's room and knocked softly on the door, but there was no response. He peered inside, quietly in case she was asleep, but there was no one there. Her room was dark, her futon still rolled up for the night. There was no sign of her presence at all.

He was just starting to worry before he noticed the open window, and got an idea.

Rei hauled himself carefully out of Ayame's window, grabbing hold of the exterior brickwork above him. It was surreal climbing a building without the added security of the Cloak of Shadows on him, and he felt his stomach lurch as he swung his legs over the windowsill, finding a foothold. For a second, his mind swam, the ground seeming to grow an infinite distance away. He squeezed his eyes shut until the wave of dizziness faded, then exhaled, looking back up at the rooftop ahead of him.

Steeling his courage, he found handholds and footholds and started to climb.

The wind was brisk on top of their apartment building, chill enough in the desert night to make him wish that he had brought a jacket with him. He found Ayame seated away from him on the rooftop, her arms around her knees and her face tilted upward towards the sky. She had a blanket draped over her shoulders to ward off the cold. He pulled himself onto the roof tiles and got to his feet, making his way slowly towards her.

She didn't look up. She knew he was there, though, how could she not? He hadn't made any move to conceal his presence, and Ayame's senses were sharper than his. He lowered himself slowly into a seat beside her, making sure to keep a respectful distance between them, and kept his eyes on her to see if she would object, but she didn't. She didn't look at him, only kept her eyes on the sky. The darkness of the night had lent shadows to her face and eyes that she didn't normally possess, clouding her violet eyes and making her look small, uncertain. Making him remember that despite her outward strength, Ayame could be surprisingly fragile.

He'd meant to look up at the stars with her, to wait until she acknowledged him, but he found that he couldn't stop just staring at her.

When she didn't speak, he realized that he would have to. He looked away from her, taking a breath to gather his courage. "I'm sorry," he said, looking out over the city.

"I know you are." Ayame's voice sounded thick, as if she had been crying. She sounded spent, drained, as if all of the emotion had already been knocked out of her.

"I shouldn't have yelled at you."

"No," Ayame said. "You shouldn't have."

"Can you forgive me?" He hadn't been expecting his voice to tremble, to catch on those words, but it did. Rei let out a shaky breath, trying to work past the knot in his throat.

Ayame said nothing for several long seconds, then she let out a heavy sigh, her shoulders slumping as she lowered her eyes from the stars. She didn't look at him, turning her attention to the roof tiles at her feet. "I didn't ask to be strong."

It wasn't the answer he had been expecting—it wasn't _either_ of the answers he had been preparing for, and it startled him enough for him to look up and turn towards her. She kept her eyes on the ground and went on as if he wasn't there.

"I didn't ask to inherit all the weapon forms, or even a part of my dad's stupidly insane wavelength, but there it is. I didn't _ask_ to be athletic, or good at fighting, but you know, there it is. I didn't _ask_ to have parents that spent every spare moment since I could walk training me because, you know, I'm part of a goddamn _legacy_ , but there it freaking is." She sucked in a ragged breath, her eyes misting over. "And you know what, I _definitely_ didn't ask for everyone from my kindergarten class, to my sparring buddies, to my goddamn _partner_ to resent me because I just happen to be good at bashing heads in, and because I've been dragged over every square inch of this rock we call a planet, but hey—," —She made a sharp gesture, like slicing through the air with the blade of her hand, "—there it is."

Her shoulders slumped at that, the fight seeming to leave her as she leaned back over her knees and looked out at the rooftops of Death City. "At some point, you just have to own it. You tell yourself that your real friends don't care, but you live in fear anyway, because one screw-up and suddenly it's 'you wouldn't understand, Ayame' and 'you don't know what it's like, Ayame' and 'the normal people are talking now, go stand outside with all the other geniuses'. You start seriously thinking about pulling punches, but you don't do it because hey, turns out pride and honor are _genetic_. And you sit there and hope that this never gets between you and your partner, that your partner understands, that he knows you can't help it. That he gets that there's really only one thing you do very well, and dammit, you're gonna make sure you do it the _best_. And then it turns out he doesn't."

She fell silent at that, keeping her eyes fixed straight ahead of her. Rei stared at her for a few long moments, stunned. He had started to think that Ayame couldn't surprise him anymore.

It took him a while to find his voice.

"I…I had no idea…" he began.

Ayame snorted. "Yeah, well…I don't talk about my feelings much. Surprise, surprise."

"I was scared." It sounded so small when compared to Ayame's revelation, but he found himself needing to say the words anyway. "I…when we went up against Morgan's uncle, I froze again. The same way I did before. With Grayson. And I started thinking that there was no point to all of this training, that it didn't matter how strong I got, how well I could fight in a controlled situation. None of that matters if I'm too scared to fight the first strong enemy I see. I took it out on you. I—"

"Bullshit." Ayame's vehement denial startled him, and he broke off in mid-sentence, staring at her. "I've seen you take a stand, Rei. If you were too scared to fight, that only meant that he didn't push you against the wall far enough. When push comes to shove, you're there, scared or not. You fight when it counts."

"Yeah," said Rei, bitterly. "So do rats."

"Rats are good," Ayame said, shrugging. "Small. Smart. They don't get themselves killed charging into some stupid pissing contest, like say, a lion."

"I didn't want to drag you down—."

"Like I give a damn. You think I have some kind of agenda? Like I want to be the 'strongest in the world' or something like that? I know who the strongest warrior in the world is. I don't have a prayer of catching him, and I wouldn't want to even if I could. What would be the point? I'm in it for the fun. Being with you is fun. Was anyway."

He felt a stab of guilt. "Ayame…" he said. "I'm sorry."

"I heard you the first time, Rei."

"No really," Rei said. "I was dumb. I shouldn't have yelled at you, and I shouldn't have taken all that crap out on you. At the end of the day, you're my partner, Ayame, and I—."

"Shh," Ayame said, cutting him off. "It's okay. You don't have to explain it. I know."

Rei fell silent, looking back out at the city. Death City spread out before them, lights twinkling in the windows of the houses. In the distance, he could still see people moving, cars winding their way through the streets, but up here on the rooftop, he and Ayame were alone.

"So, does that mean we're okay?" he asked after a while.

"Eventually," Ayame said.

He considered his feelings, and realized that he was alright with 'eventually'. "I can live with that," he said. "Ayame."

The two of them lapsed into silence. Ayame tilted her head back up, considering the stars, and Rei continued to watch the city. Time passed, and slowly Rei felt the ragged edges in his chest start to knit back together, as if the air between them was clearing as they sat.

"Stars are pretty," Ayame said, breaking the silence between them. The words were said casually, but they felt like an olive branch. Rei nodded.

"They are," he agreed.

A cool breeze blew through the air, chilling him to the skin. He shivered in spite of himself.

Ayame glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "Cold?" she asked.

"A little," he admitted.

She let out a long sigh and shifted closer, opening the blanket. Rei hesitated, the heat rising to his face before he shifted closer as well, letting her drape the blanket over his shoulders so that it covered the two of them. Ayame exhaled and leaned into him, wrapping her half of the blanket tight around herself, and she was warm and soft and most importantly, not ignoring him anymore, so Rei let himself move just that little bit closer to her, let an arm go up around her to pull her to him. He rested his chin on the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her, and she closed her eyes, relaxing against his chest.

The wind cut through the air, washing over the two of them. They sat there for a long while, wrapped up in each other.

* * *

_Three days later_

Rei looked back at the living room from the stove, frowning as another wave of giggling, mostly Ayame and Cassie, rose up and filtered through the house. He gave the stew another turn, then placed the pot's lid back on it, putting the spoon he was using on a plate next to the stove and shrugging out of his apron. Morgan, Cassie, and Ayame were watching some anime on TV that he was half-sure he didn't want to be caught dead anywhere within five miles of. He hung his apron back up, frowning at them.

"Not that I don't like you guys or anything," he said, "But was there any reason why you had to have your girls' night here?"

"Ayame lives here," said Morgan, as if that was answer enough. She frowned at the screen. "I don't understand. Why does she have to hide that she's a girl?"

"Because she wouldn't be able to work at the club if she didn't!" Ayame said. "Um—not that I'd know."

"Yeah, but—" Rei winced as something happened on screen, something that involved an improbable amount of roses. "—you and Cassie have a place."

"The food's better here," said Cassie with an unapologetic smile. She looked back at the screen, letting out a high-pitched sound that made Rei want to check to make sure that the windows hadn't broken. "I _love_ the twins."

Rei decided that that was time to clear out, before they started arguing over which cast member they preferred. He checked his phone, breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that Vayne had replied, and slipped his keys into his pocket. "Um, so I'm heading out," he said.

"Oh, really?" Ayame asked, looking at him over the back of the couch. "Where to?"

"Clark and Vayne's," said Rei. "There's a stew in the kitchen, Morgan. Check on it every ten minutes or so, and it should be ready to eat in a little less than an hour."

"Understood," said Morgan, nodding her head. "Thanks."

"Hey, how come you never ask _me_ to help with the cooking?" asked Cassie.

"It's a trap, Rei. No need to answer that." Ayame waved her hand dismissively, looking back at the screen. "Have fun."

"But you know, not _too_ much fun," said Cassie.

"What exactly constitutes 'too much fun'?" asked Morgan.

Ayame let out a derisive snort. "Nothing those three losers can come up with."

" _Alright_ ," Rei said. "Leaving now."

He received a couple of vague grunts in reply from Cassie and Morgan, and a "Smell ya later" from Ayame that made him roll his eyes, heading towards the door. Still, he thought with a smile, he had to admit that it was an improvement over fighting.

* * *

"Ah, there he is," Vayne said, when Rei knocked on the door to his and Clark's apartment a few minutes later. "The refugee."

Vayne was grinning. Rei rolled his eyes, stepping into Vayne and Clark's living room. Clark was seated on the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table, tapping away at a video game controller in his hand. There were discarded soda cans on the surface of the table, accompanied by a half-empty pack of chips. As he walked in, he kicked aside a jacket that had fallen to the floor and lay discarded.

Rei breathed a sigh of relief, plopping down on the couch next to Clark. He elbowed the blond boy lightly in the ribs.

"Next game."

* * *

_**19:57 [Ayame]** _ _We bought ice cream. Your party is officially less cool._

Rei looked up from his buzzing phone at Clark, who had started shouting over something Vayne did in the game that they were playing together. He glanced at the screen and, satisfied that the two of them would be busy for a little while longer, quickly tapped out a reply and sent it.

_**19:57** _ _We have video games._

Ayame's reply came quickly.

_**19:58 [Ayame]** _ _We have stew. :P_

_**19:58** _ _Yeah, a stew I made._

_**19:59 [Ayame]** _ _Yeah, thanks for that :D_

Rei rolled his eyes, looking back up at the screen as something exploded, making Vayne mutter a curse under his breath. He glanced back down at his phone.

_**20:00** _ _Okay, next time I won't cook for you._

_**20:01 [Ayame]** _ _Tsundere~_

_**20:01** _ _Am not._

_**20:02 [Ayame]** _ _Are too :P_

Rei snorted softly, feeling the corner of his lip twitch up in a smile in spite of himself. He settled back against the couch cushions, drawing a knee up closer to himself and bringing his feet up onto the couch. Vayne and Clark faded into background noise as he typed up a reply.

_**20:03** _ _So if you're bugging me, I'm guessing you guys are done talking about your feelings._

_**20:04 [Ayame]** _ _Lol we finished a long time ago. Now we're talking about you._

_trust me, there's a lot to say_

_**20:05** _ _Nothing bad, I hope._

_**20:06 [Ayame]** _ _Hmm…that depends on what you think bad is._

He rolled his eyes. Before he could tap out a response, another message from Ayame came through.

_**20:06 [Ayame]** _ _Don't worry, they didn't talk about you for long. They're on Clark now._

Rei's eyes flicked back up towards Clark, whose avatar was now shooting at Vayne's with everything he had. He looked back down at his phone.

_**20:07** _ _Anything good?_

_**20:07 [Ayame]** _ _Lol not allowed to say_

_Girl code, you know~_

_**20:08 [Ayame]** _ _Are they even feeding you there anyway?_

Rei glanced down at the bowls piled up on the coffee table, then looked back at his screen.

_**20:09** _ _Pieced together some ramen from instant ramen packets, ham, eggs_

_Not much real food here._

There was a pause, in which he could almost see Ayame laughing.

_**20:11 [Ayame]** _ _Oh you poor baby_

_**20:11** _ _Yeah, don't laugh_

_They want me to stay forever_

_**20:12 [Ayame]** _ _Lol tell them they can't have you_

_I will starve_

_**20:13** _ _I feel so valued_

_**20:14 [Ayame]** _ _Well you know, it's not like I need you back for your rugged good looks, princess._

Rei exhaled through his nose, biting back a chuckle. He brought his phone closer to his face, getting ready to reply.

Before he could, a hand reached out, snatching his phone away. His eyes widened and he sat up, turning to face Vayne. The other boy was standing with his phone in his hands, a grin on his face. Clark stood just over his shoulder, grinning at him as well.

"Stop texting your girlfriend," Vayne said, his grin turning into a teasing smirk.

"Hey, give that back!" said Rei, getting to his feet and reaching for it. Vayne jerked out of his reach before he could grab his phone, taking a step backwards.

"Nope," said Vayne, leaning down to look at the screen. "Let's see here…Ayame, Ayame, Ayame…you've got it _bad_."

"Tsk, tsk," said Clark, shaking his head and slipping one hand into the pocket of his jeans. "Disgraceful."

"Like you're one to talk," said Rei. He threw a pillow at Clark, jumping to his feet. He was painfully aware that the heat was rising to his face, which he only knew would help Vayne come to the wrong conclusions. "And Ayame and I are just friends, Vayne, now give that back!"

"And denial is just a river in Egypt," said Vayne, rolling his eyes. He twisted away from Rei as he lunged at him, laughing as Rei banged his shins into the coffee table in his haste. As Rei stepped back, muttering a curse under his breath and grabbing his leg, Vayne increased the distance between them. "Seriously, Rei, as your friend, I think you need an intervention."

"Here, let me try," said Clark, holding out his hand for the phone.

Rei's eyes widened in horror, and he stretched out a hand towards them. "No, _don't_."

But it was too late. Clark was already typing.

"Oh, Ayame…" he said, reading the message aloud as he typed. "The night sky has grown dimmer since you were born, because all the stars went into your eyes."

He decided that drastic times called for drastic measures. While Clark was distracted with the text message, Rei picked up one of the discarded soda cans, tossing it at his head. Clark's eyes widened, and he jerked his head back out of the path of the projectile, but Rei was already moving, launching himself over the coffee table and skidding towards Clark in a slide aimed directly at his ankles. Clark stumbled, struggling to regain his footing as Rei barreled into him, and that gave Rei enough time to snatch the phone out of the air. He quickly leaped back up to his feet, raising the phone close to his face and looking through it to survey the damage.

The message had already been sent. As he was staring at the message log, feeling despair start to settle somewhere in his belly, his phone buzzed with a reply from Ayame.

_**20:20 [Ayame]** _ _Hi, Clark_

_**20:21 [Ayame]** _ _Give Rei his phone back_

_He will cry_

Rei stared at his phone, torn between relief and indignation. Before he could respond, Vayne plucked the phone out of his grasp, looking at the reply.

Vayne laughed. "She's got you there."

"Shut up," Rei said, snatching his phone back and wiping the screen off with his sleeve. "And for the last time, there's nothing between me and Ayame."

"Sure," said Vayne, a lazy grin spreading over his face. "Whatever you say."

Rei scowled, deliberately choosing to ignore Vayne. He stuffed his phone in his pocket and picked up the stack of bowls, carting them off towards the kitchen. He dropped them in the sink and pulled his phone back out, looking over his shoulder to make sure Clark and Vayne weren't watching, but they were still in the living room, laughing to themselves and talking in soft voices.

He typed out another message.

_**20:25** _ _For the record, I would not cry_

_**20:25 [Ayame]** _ _Got your phone back though_

_**20:26** _ _Yeah. Freaking Clark._

_**20:26 [Ayame]** _ _Aww, don't worry_

_If you wanna get back at them, ask Vayne about Morgan_

Rei frowned, thinking about that for a moment. He looked back down at his phone.

_**20:27** _ _You are an evil person_

_**20:27 [Ayame]:** _ _;)_

* * *

It felt like entirely too long since Maka had had a moment's peace.

She let out an exhausted breath and flopped backwards onto the couch in their living room, legs draped over the armrest as she savored the sound of silence. The attack on Death City had been busy and chaotic and everything that Maka had come to expect from an attack like that, but she had learned over the years that sometimes, the work that happened _after_ the battles could make her wish to be out fighting again. The week since the battle had been full of meetings and debriefings, work parties to put the school back in order, nights at the library going over Soul Studies texts and trying to figure out what the Morrigan was doing to those souls, and frightened students coming to her door in the middle of the night because they couldn't sleep and she was sometimes the closest thing they had to a parent.

It would have been enough to drain anyone.

She threw her arm over her eyes and let them close, reveling in the silence that permeated the house. Upstairs, the twins had finally been put to bed for the night, and the lights were off throughout the house, except for one lamp up in her and Soul's bedroom and another in the piano room. After so many years spent here, the house's silence and darkness were comfortable, and she practically breathed that in.

She loved her children, but would be lying if she said that there weren't days when she preferred them all asleep.

Maka lifted the arm from her eyes as she felt someone drop down onto the couch beside her head, knowing without even having to use her Soul Perception that it was Soul. He placed a hand on her head with all the ease of long familiarity and she exhaled, scooting backwards on the couch so that she could draw closer to him.

"Tired?" he asked.

Maka snorted, letting her eyes fall closed again. The top of her head brushed his thigh. "Understatement," she said.

He ran his fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp lightly, and she sighed, leaning into the touch. She felt Soul shift back so that he was leaning into the couch and knew without having to look that she had tilted his head over the backrest so that he was looking up at the ceiling. One of her heels tapped the edge of the couch just below the armrest before she shifted so that she was lying on her side.

She'd hoped that the silence meant that the rest of the night would be peaceful, but a knock on the door told her that the thought was premature. Maka groaned, flopping over onto her back as Soul disentangled his fingers from her hair, standing up with a soft groan that reminded her gently that the both of them were starting to push forty.

"If that's another student," she said, staring up at the ceiling, "I will scream."

Soul chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "I'll run them off," he promised, as he walked towards the door.

"No, don't," said Maka, instantly feeling guilty. She pushed herself up so that she was sitting, reminding herself that for many of her students, this had been the first time that Death City had been attacked in their memory. "I'll talk to them."

Soul shrugged as if to say that it was her funeral, before throwing the door open.

It wasn't a student. Instead, Black Star grinned from the other side of the door, a bottle of something suspiciously amber-colored in his hands. "Hey—!" he said loudly, but he didn't get much farther than that before both Maka and Soul surged forward, covering his mouth with their hands. He quickly jerked his head away, scowling at them. "— _mmph!_ What the hell's wrong with you?"

"Shhh!" said Maka and Soul at once, holding fingers up to their mouths frantically and staring at him with wide eyes. As Black Star blinked in confusion, Soul pointed up at the ceiling.

"Kids," he said. "In bed."

"Oh," Black Star said, frowning as if he hadn't realized that that was a concern. "Yeah, I get it. Tsubaki's home with Bright Star, but nothing wakes him up at night. The kid sleeps like a log." He grinned proudly, as if Bright Star's sleeping prowess was something to be bragged about. Maka, having a sudden flashback to long nights trying to make sure both twins were asleep and stayed asleep at the same time, wasn't sure it wasn't.

"What are you doing here, anyway, Black Star?" Maka asked, "It's the middle of the night."

Black Star snorted. "It's ten o'clock," he said. "Since when is _that_ the middle of the night?" Maka opened her mouth, about to argue, but before she could, Black Star stepped forward, handing the bottle to Soul. "Here. Grabbed this from Kid's place. Feel like breaking into it, tonight?"

"You stole from _Kid_ —?" Maka spluttered, but was cut off as Soul held the bottle at arm's length to examine it.

"This is pretty good stuff, actually…" Soul muttered.

" _Soul!"_

"What?" Soul said. "I'm just saying."

Maka sighed, pressing her fingers to her face. She relented, however, stepping back and away from the door. "You might as well come in," she said.

"Don't mind if I do," said Black Star with a grin, marching into the house like he owned the place.

They walked into the kitchen, and Maka flicked on the light as Soul pulled two glasses out from one of the cupboards. He pulled out a third and glanced over at Maka questioningly, and she shook her head in reply. The last time she had let Black Star trick her into drinking, she had been a wreck in class the next day. At a time like this, her students deserved better than that. She sank into a chair across from Black Star as Soul returned with the drinks, setting a glass in front of the blue-haired man.

Black Star downed his drink before Soul could take a sip, slamming the tumbler back down onto the table with a contented sigh and motioning for Soul to pour him more. Soul raised an eyebrow, but did so anyway, raising his glass to his mouth and taking a short sip.

"That's the stuff," Black Star said, when he had gotten through half of his drink. He set the glass down, and Maka propped her head up in her hand, tracing patterns on the kitchen table.

"You're going to be in trouble with Kid when he finds out," Maka said.

"He's never gonna notice," said Black Star, draining his drink. "Swapped it with another one. Besides, like I care." He poured himself a new one from the bottle, then gestured at Maka with it. "Sure you don't want any?"

"I'm sure," said Maka.

"Suit yourself," said Black Star, setting the bottle back down. He didn't pick up his glass. That was signal enough that the mood had changed. Maka watched, frowning thoughtfully, as Soul slowly set down his glass, reading the same things she was.

"So," Soul said, looking across the table from Black Star. "What's this _really_ about?"

Black Star shrugged, tapping his fingers on the tabletop. "The old witch's somewhere," he said. "Hiding, probably listening to us, and we're all just waiting for her to attack again."

"Sounds about right," said Soul.

"What do you want to do?" asked Maka.

"I've been thinking," Black Star said. "Waiting around's not really my style. How d'you guys feel about taking the fight to her?"

* * *

The way back from Ayame's apartment was dark and quiet in the dead of night, most of Death City having already retreated back into their homes. Morgan walked with Cassie down the street, the grimoire humming along to some song on her headphones. She had a smile on her face, her hands over her headphones as they walked slowly back to their own apartment. A soft breeze stirred the cool air, tugging at Morgan's clothes and pulling her hair back.

It was a nice night. A few weeks ago, she might have appreciated that, but now every noise made her tense, every half-formed figure in the shadows was her uncle trying to take her back. Her eyes flicked towards the ravens perched on the streetlamp, watching her, securing her route, but she took no comfort in their presence. Her uncle knew how to hide from them, and even worse, in the dead of night, a crow was sometimes hard to distinguish from a raven.

A shiver ran down her spine and she tore her eyes away from the birds, forcing herself to look at the road ahead of her. It wouldn't happen. Not yet. Her grandmother wouldn't attack so soon. Morgan knew her. It wasn't her grandmother's way to reveal herself so quickly. She was like a cat with a mouse when it came to games like this. She would let them recover for a little while, let them think themselves safe. When they had dropped their guard, she would strike again.

Sooner or later, Mordred would come back from her.

She paused on the street corner, her eyes moving up to the towering structure of the DWMA, visible from everywhere in Death City, lit by the candles that floated around it. If she told everything she knew to Shinigami…but there was no telling what he would do to her if she did, and there was no imagining what her grandmother would do to her, if Morgan ever fell into her clutches again.

The last thought was enough to make her grow cold, to make her taste bile in her mouth. Morgan clenched her fists tightly, her fingernails digging into her palm, but the pain, sharp as it was, wasn't enough to bring her back to the present.

"Morgan?" Cassie asked, stopping from a few feet ahead and looking back at her. She had lifted her headphones from her ears, and was frowning at Morgan in question.

Morgan turned towards her, shaking her head. "It's nothing," she said, walking towards Cassie. She quickened her stride, the raven she had passed flying off with a raucous caw to scout the path ahead of her.

If the Morrigan ever found out where she was, what Morgan had been doing all this time, the consequences would be dire. Morgan was under no illusions about what the Morrigan could do to her, what the Morrigan _would_ do to her. But if she ever betrayed her grandmother to Shinigami, if it ever got back to the Morrigan that Morgan had done such a thing…

It wouldn't only be Morgan that she would hurt. The Morrigan had ways of making her feelings known.

She brushed past Cassie, forging ahead into the night.

 


	32. The Raven and the Pendulum; Nevermore?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, we take some of the focus off of Rei and Ayame and move to some of the other side characters for a minute, but for those of you wondering a little about Rei and his personality, I'd like to point your attention to a song that I really think describes both Rei's character and his character arc perfectly: Hello World by Bump of Chicken, the opening to Kekkai Sensen and the song I would pick if I could choose a (second season) OP for this story, haha. (fansoop dot com has an English Subbed PV of this song).
> 
> Enjoy the chapter!

* * *

**CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE**

**The Raven and the Pendulum; Nevermore?**

* * *

"Well, we're expecting an attack from an evil super witch any day now, the school is still slightly tilted and we can't go anywhere without being watched by DWMA security, but hey, at least we've got homework, right?" asked Vayne, flopping down onto his back with a long-suffering sigh and drawing his textbook up close to his face.

Rei grunted in response, hunching over the notebook that was propped onto his knee and scribbling down his answer. He was seated cross-legged beneath one of the trees in the training forest, books and notes scattered around him.

"If the school didn't close for the Kishin, I don't think it's likely to close now," said Clark, reaching over to flip the page of the book he was using as reference. "Sadly, the show must go on."

"Yeah, sure," said Vayne, lifting his book so that he could look at Clark from under it and smirking. _"Iinchou."_

"Again with the nicknames!" said Clark, slamming his hands onto his knees.

"Ugh—I don't get it at all!" Ayame said, throwing up her notebook in frustration. "Rei, why is Maka-sensei doing this to us?"

"How should I know?" Rei asked, frowning at Ayame in irritation.

"I don't know. She's _your_ mother."

"That doesn't mean I know what she's thinking!" Rei said. "Anyway, it's not that hard. If you listened to her lecture today—."

"Yeah, yeah," said Ayame. "Let me copy your homework!"

"What—no!" Rei leaned back as Ayame lunged at him, holding his assignment at arm's reach with both hands and attempting to force her back with a knee. "I'll _help_ you with your homework, but I'm not gonna— _Ayame!"_

"Oh, fine," said Ayame, pouting as she backed off. "You're no fun. Morgan?"

"Not likely," said Morgan, scribbling down another line from where she sat in the shade.

Cassie looked over from her own work at her partner, her eyes widening as she glanced down at Morgan's sheet. "Whoa," she said, slipping off her headphones. "You're already on question 12? And Rei's still on…" She paused to look over at Rei's paper. "7!"

Rei's eyes widened, and he hunched forward, renewing his pace with a vengeance. Morgan smiled, her lip quirking up for half a second as she continued on with her steady, constant pace.

" _Nerds_ ," Vayne teased, drawing out the word as he held his book over his head.

"You have comic books under your bed," said Clark, looking up from his writing to glance at his partner.

"Yeah, but you know," said Vayne. "Mostly Batman."

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Rei, frowning as he looked up.

Vayne shrugged, flipping a page. "Batman's cool."

"Batman _is_ pretty cool, Rei," Ayame pointed out.

Rei rolled his eyes in response, continuing to write at a breakneck speed. He blitzed through questions 8 and 9, simple essay questions about the nature of resonance, and glanced over at Morgan. She was still writing in that same steady pace, which meant she couldn't have gotten much farther along. She had to be on question 13 at the most. With twenty questions on the assignment sheet, he could still catch up to her. His eyes skimmed over question 10 and widened triumphantly when he realized that it was a question he _could_ answer. He felt a grin come to his face in spite of himself as he raised his pen, about to set it to paper.

Something soft and warm crashed into him from behind, upsetting his momentum and nearly throwing him forward. Rei let out an 'oof' as the wind was knocked out of him, feeling arms wrap around him from above. A weight landed on his head, straining his neck as he tried to look up.

" _Reiiii-chan_ ," cooed a feminine voice. "Blair hasn't seen you in _forever_!"

"Argh—Blair—getoff—," Rei grumbled, swinging an arm up in an attempt to push her off of him as he tried to sit back up. That only managed to twist him around in her grasp, forcing his face into her chest and making it so it was very difficult to breathe. Rei scowled in irritation, trying to gain some distance, but her grip was like iron as she hugged him tight for a few seconds before finally letting him pull away.

He gasped for breath as her hands settled on his shoulders, and looked over to see Clark and Vayne watching him intently. Vayne had half-risen from where he was lying on the ground, his mouth hanging open as he stared at Blair. Clark looked at her with much the same expression, except his face had gone an alarming shade of red. The pencil he had been holding lay in the grass, forgotten, his hand curled around empty air as if it were still there. Morgan and Cassie had looked up from their work and were watching the scene with interest. Ayame looked annoyed. He quickly looked away from her, turning towards Blair.

"What are you doing here anyway?" he asked.

She gave him a cat-like smile, settling back onto her heels. "Secret mission," she said. "Can't tell you about it, nyan~"

"Uh—Rei," said Vayne, having apparently found his voice. "You—uh—going to introduce us, buddy?"

Rei blinked, looking around. "Huh? Oh, right. Blair, these are my friends. That's Ayame, my partner, Morgan and Cassie, Clark and Vayne. Guys, this is Blair. She was kind of—well, she lived with us—well she—."

"Blair was the family cat," Blair said, releasing Rei's shoulders and turning towards them. She drew herself up proudly, resting her hands on her hips. "I lived with Maka and Soul until they graduated, and even when they had Rei-chan here~." She smiled, resting her elbow on his head. Rei shot her an annoyed glare. "Until they had those _evil_ twins."

Blair shuddered visibly, and Rei pushed her elbow off of his head, struggling to fix his hair. "They aren't _so_ bad," he said.

"Little hands, grasping, pulling tails—ugh—." Blair shuddered, hugging herself for an instant before looking up at the others. The smile quickly reappeared on her face. "It's nice to meet you."

"It's meet to nic—uh—I mean you to meet—uh—nice you meet too—um—hello." Clark finished lamely, looking away. He had one hand up on the back of his neck, his face turning even redder.

"Blair has to go and report, but we should meet later," said Blair, getting to her feet. "It would be nice to play together." She paused to give Clark a wink as she passed, and Clark's eyes widened.

The subsequent nosebleed knocked his head back as if from a physical blow, and he collapsed on the ground. Rei rolled his eyes, looking back at his homework as Vayne scrambled to find him a handkerchief.

"Really, man?" Rei asked. "She's, like, sixty at least."

"She definitely doesn't look it, though," said Vayne, his eyes fixed distractedly on Blair as she walked away.

"Vayne!" said Rei.

"What?" Vayne asked. "I'm just saying."

The sound of a book snapping shut seemed to cut through Vayne's daze, and he and Rei glanced back at the same time to see Morgan getting to her feet, brushing the grass from her skirt. "I'm finished with my assignment," said Morgan, not looking at any of them in particular. "If any of you need me, I'll be in the library."

Cassie's eyes widened as Morgan started walking away, and she quickly scrambled back up to her feet, her headphones falling around her neck. "Morgan?" she asked. "Wait for me!"

Rei blinked, watching as Morgan walked off. "Something we said?" he asked.

"Don't know," said Vayne, looking troubled. He frowned after Morgan for a moment, then looked back over his shoulder at Rei. "How can you be so calm about this anyway?"

"About _Blair_?" Rei asked, making a face. "Gross. I have baby pictures with her. Besides, I live with Ayame."

"Damn straight," Ayame said, stretching herself out on the grass and striking a pose.

Rei flushed. "Not what I meant!"

"Oh yeah?" Ayame sitting up. "So what exactly _did_ you mean, Rei?"

Vayne rolled his eyes as the two of them started to argue, watching as Morgan walked away.

* * *

"Alright, spill," said Cassie, matching pace with Morgan and trying to get her meister to look her in the eye. "Something's wrong with you. Is it about Vayne?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Morgan, coolly. She sped up her pace by a fraction, barely noticeable but just enough so that Cassie couldn't quite hold her gaze. That was confirmation enough, and Cassie's eyes widened.

"It is, isn't it?" she asked. "You're upset about Vayne!"

"Not in the slightest," said Morgan, walking through the doors of the DWMA. Cassie followed her, her mind already spinning to work through the implications. She had had her suspicions, but Morgan never seemed to show that sort of interest in anyone. If her partner was _actually_ interested—

By the time they rounded the corner towards the library, Cassie had the seeds of a plan. She reached forward, grabbing Morgan's hand and forcing her partner to stop and look back at her.

"Come see a movie with me this weekend?" Cassie asked.

Morgan frowned, and Cassie could see suspicion in the other girl's dark eyes. She put on her most innocent smile, tilting her head to the side.

"A movie?" Morgan repeated.

"Well, you know," Cassie said. "We haven't done anything just the two of us in a while, and there are some good movies coming out. I was thinking we could go see one together! It'll be fun."

Morgan frowned, still clearly looking for the trap, but it had been just long enough between the two topics of conversation to make her meister believe that she had dropped the subject of Vayne. It was one of the nice things, Cassie mused, that came from having a reputation for being easily distracted.

"…Alright," Morgan finally said.

"Great!" said Cassie, dropping her meister's hand. "I'll pre-order the tickets tonight, then. It's cheaper that way."

Morgan frowned at her, but nodded once, peeling away from Cassie and walking into the library. Cassie released her hand, letting her go. Ordinarily, she might have followed Morgan, but she didn't have time or the inclination to do that today. Today, there were _plans_ to make.

Smiling to herself, Cassie slipped her headphones back on, walking back towards the classroom.

* * *

_Saturday_

"What do you mean you can't make it?" Morgan asked, as Cassie darted from the bathroom back into her bedroom. She made a show of pulling her backpack up from the floor, scooping up her schoolbooks and thrusting them into the bag at random.

"Sorry, Morgan dear," Cassie said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and giving Morgan a sheepish smile. "Remedial lessons. I forgot all about them. Silly me."

"Well, what am I supposed to do with these movie tickets?" Morgan asked, frowning at Cassie as she held up the offending items. Cassie looked over at her partner, standing in her doorway, and tapped her finger against her lip, looking up at the ceiling as if considering it. "Hmm…" she said. "You could ask Ayame?"

Morgan frowned, motioning for Cassie's phone. Cassie handed it over to her, then looked away to hide her smile as Morgan walked off to make the call. The incriminating evidence of her and Ayame's conversation had long since been deleted from the phone. There was a pause while Morgan spoke with Ayame, her voice an indistinct murmur from where Cassie was standing. After a few moments, she popped her head back into the room, holding the phone out with a frown as if it had personally offended her.

"She's busy," Morgan said. "She and Rei both."

"Rei too?" asked Cassie, blinking wide blue eyes that were entirely innocent. "Well, that's a problem…um…maybe you could ask Vayne?"

Morgan's brow furrowed.

"…Or Clark?" Cassie ventured.

The words had the intended effect. The raven witch spun on her heel, pressing the phone to her ear. She strode out of Cassie's room, and Cassie once again heard her talking into the phone from somewhere in the living room. A few moments later, Morgan reappeared, her eyes narrowing as she handed the phone over to Cassie.

"Vayne's free," she said, giving Cassie a piercing look.

_Did you plan this?_ Morgan seemed to ask.

Cassie's response was a soft smile as she reached down, swinging her backpack onto her shoulders.

_Not at all~_

* * *

"Clark?"

Clark jumped at the voice that came from the doorway to the classroom, propping his head up in his arms. He hadn't even noticed that he'd fallen asleep. He blinked his eyes blearily, seeing Cassie standing in the door next to the teacher's desk, her backpack slung over one shoulder.

"Cassie?" he asked.

"What are you doing here?" Cassie asked, frowning. "It's Saturday."

Clark's eyes widened, and he glanced at his watch. Sure enough, the day of the week blinked somewhere on the bottom of the screen, accompanied by the time, just a little after eleven in the morning. He hung his head, rubbing at his eyes beneath his glasses. He'd been wondering why Vayne wasn't even awake when he left.

"Of course it is," he muttered under his breath.

The world, he decided, definitely hated him. It wasn't bad enough that he had ended up at school on a Saturday, but to be found by Cassie of all people—

—The sound of a giggle drew him out of his thoughts, and he raised his head, looking down at her. Cassie was looking away from him, one hand over her mouth, the other on the strap of her backpack. He noticed that for once, while she was talking to him, her headphones were off, hanging around her neck. He felt a rush of warmth and immediately hated himself for it, glancing away from her. A month or so ago, he would have been thrilled just to be alone with her. Now, he was suddenly filled with the urge to run away. But when he looked up, chagrined, Cassie had stopped laughing. She gave him a tentative smile, inclining her head back out into the hallway.

"I'm heading to the library," she said. "Want to come?"

* * *

Holding books for Cassie while she reorganized the shelves wasn't exactly how Clark had envisioned spending his Saturday, but he found that he didn't mind. He held up a book for her as she reached for it, watching as she took it from him with a smile and slid it carefully into place. The stack of books behind them looked endless, but Cassie seemed to understand where each one went without even looking at them.

"Any reason why you're cleaning up the library on a Saturday?" Clark asked, as she pushed the wheeled ladder she was using over to the left a little, adjusting her position on the shelf.

"I volunteered," Cassie said, motioning for him to hand her the next book. He did so, and she frowned at it for a moment, before her eyes lit up. She scrambled down the ladder and he had to jog to keep up as he followed her over to the opposite side of the library. "Morgan needed some time alone."

"Ah," said Clark, drawing up beside her. A frown came onto his face at that, a little delayed. His mind went back to Morgan's revelation, barely a week ago. "Is—uh—is she alright?"

"Oh, she's fine," said Cassie with a smile. "Just peachy. I just—you know—didn't want to get in the way. And this isn't hard work. I've always liked the library." She paused, scanning the shelves on this side of the room before scrambling up one of the ladders, placing the book into its proper spot. Clark watched her work, noting the way her fingers brushed against the spines of the books as she moved past them. It was a subtle, tender motion, almost like a caress.

It was startling how many new things he was noticing about Cassie, now that he actually bothered to _look_ at her.

"I-uh-I guess that makes sense," he said, handing her another book. "Considering you're a book yourself."

Cassie's expression darkened at his words, her eyes flicking down to the book in her hands. Her expression grew far-off, the smile falling away from her face for an instant. Clark's eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to apologize for his error, whatever it might have been, but before he could, Cassie shook her head, looking up at him.

"Yes," she said. "I am."

She hugged the book closer to herself with one arm, walking away. Clark stared after her, momentarily frozen in place. One of her hands reached up, fingers running lightly over her headphones, but her eyes hardened in determination and she lowered her hand, walking over to the shelf. Clark exhaled, some of the tension leaving him as he moved towards her.

"Cass…" he began, frowning in concern.

"I'm sorry to hear about your mother," Cassie said. She pushed the book back into place, not looking at him. "I didn't get a chance to say that last time. It must be hard."

"My—uh—yeah, my mother…" Clark looked away awkwardly, placing his hand on the back of his neck. It still felt strange, having it all out in the open like that. His mouth moved, saying the words that he had been repeating all his life. "She left a long time ago. I haven't seen her in years."

"But it's not easy, is it?" asked Cassie, looking back at him. The look in her eyes was strange. He barely recognized her. His mind flashed back to the night his mother left, thought back to himself chasing after her, his hand stretched out as he called towards her, as she kept walking away.

"No…" he admitted, feeling his throat close up with the word. "No, it's not."

Cassie nodded as if she expected the answer, taking the topmost book from the stack in his hands. She barely glanced at it before she was already walking, heading towards another shelf.

"Families are hard," she said. "You get caught up in so much…stuff you never asked for. Even when it's good, like with Rei and Ayame, there's still so much…pressure there."

Clark got the sense that they weren't still talking about his mother. He spun around, trying to face her, but she kept her back to him as he moved, expertly avoiding his eye. A month ago, he might have forced her to look at him, done anything to get her attention, but then again, a month ago, he might not really have been listening to her in the first place. He would have already been thinking about his next line, about what else he could say to her to get her to like him.

What was it Ophelia had said? That he was better just being himself? He drew in a deep breath, gathering up his courage.

"You've…never said much about your family, Cassie," he said.

Cassie shrugged, not looking at him. "What's there to tell?" she asked. "My mother died when I was young. My father…" She waved her hand as if to say that that hardly mattered.

"So who took care of you?" Clark asked, eyes widening. "Where did you live?"

"I lived…"

Cassie trailed off, her breath quavering. She raised one slender hand, resting it on her headphones. He thought he saw a tremor make its way up her back and into her shoulders, manifesting in her fingers before her shoulders heaved and she lowered her hands. "Well…it doesn't matter. I don't really want to talk about it."

"Sorry," Clark said, lowering his eyes to the ground. "I didn't mean to pry."

But Cassie barely seemed to hear him. She stepped forward, whisking the next book off of the stack in his hands. His arms felt strangely empty, and it took him a moment to realize that the book she had taken had been the last one. He turned towards her, but she had already managed to turn away, her face in shadow as she scanned the books and the shelves. She looked down at the book in her hands, but didn't seem to see it. Her expression was distant, vacant, as if she was barely there at all.

Then, as if she felt his eyes on her, she drew in a deep breath and seemed to change before his eyes, a smile coming onto her face as she straightened up. "Well, don't worry about it," she said, brightly. "Grab another stack. We can probably take a break for lunch after a few more."

Clark stared at her for a moment before her words caught up to his brain and he nodded, scrambling to comply. Still, he couldn't help but wonder, as he picked up another stack of books and she smiled sweetly at him for it, if her eyes had always been this dull, this far away, and he had never noticed.

* * *

"I'm just saying— _sometimes_ you're not the best at remembering not to walk around the house in a towel, that's all," said Rei, face flushed. He looked away from Ayame as the two of them walked down the street, taking a small bite from the ice cream cone in his hand.

Ayame frowned at him in suspicion, hands on her hips. "So that's all?" she asked. "That's the _only_ thing you meant when you said that."

"Sure," said Rei, not looking at her. "What else would I mean?"

Ayame blinked at him, incredulous. "What else?" she repeated. "What _else?_ Ugh, you know what, never mind. You wouldn't get it."

Rei eyed her out of the corner of his eye. "You're being strange today," he said. "What, you _wanted_ me to fall all over Blair like Vayne and Clark were doing?"

" _No!"_ said Ayame, with enough force that Rei almost dropped his ice cream. He blinked at her, taking another bite.

The two of them had gone out for ice cream this morning, on Cassie's suggestion that they find something to do outside of the house for most of the day, and not let Morgan join them if she asked. Rei had no idea what that was about, but Ayame seemed perfectly happy to comply, so his day was now filled with activities like 'afternoon training' or hanging out at the arcade, or taking their siblings to the park. Cassie very rarely asked for favors like this, so going along with it wasn't a problem, but Rei couldn't help but wonder what it was all about.

"Hey." Ayame nudged him in the side, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Don't look now, but I think that's Vayne and Morgan."

Rei looked over the top of her head, glancing across the street. Sure enough, Vayne and Morgan were walking together. Vayne had a goofy grin on his face, as if he had just finished making a joke, and—Rei's eyes widened. Was Morgan… _smiling_?

"I said don't look," Ayame hissed, grabbing onto his jacket and yanking on it sharply. "Or if you are going to look, don't be so obvious about it."

Rei quickly looked away, although he couldn't help but risk another glance as Vayne and Morgan rounded the corner. The two of them disappeared from sight, and Rei turned towards Ayame.

"What do you think _that_ was about?" he asked.

Ayame shrugged. "I don't know, but I think I know what Cassie wanted."

"Are they—?" His brain worked to comprehend it. "Are they on a date?"

"Maybe," said Ayame, frowning as she considered it. "They look good together, don't they?"

"I—I guess?" Rei still struggled to wrap his mind around it. Vayne and Morgan. Vayne and Morgan _together._

Ayame, sensing his distraction, leaned towards him, her eyes on his ice cream cone. Rei's eyes widened and he quickly held it out of reach, turning towards her.

"Hey!" he said. "Get your own!"

"Come on, don't be stingy," said Ayame. "Didn't your mother ever teach you to share?"

"It's not my fault you ate yours in two seconds!" Rei said. "I mean, seriously, who does that?"

Ayame's eyes narrowed. "Are you saying I'm fat?"

"What—no!" said Rei, alarmed. "I just—I was just—."

"Hey, look, Vayne and Morgan are back."

"What? Where— _Ayame!"_

Ayame smiled at him from around a mouthful of ice cream, having bitten off most of the cone. Rei stared at her in outrage, looking from the remnants of his ice cream to her.

A few moments later, they were back at the ice cream shop, Ayame promising to buy him a new one.

* * *

Morgan had to admit, things could have gone a lot worse.

She had been a little worried about whatever it was that Cassie had been scheming, but Vayne turned out to be an agreeable companion. He had sounded excited when she mentioned that she had an extra movie ticket for today, and had hurried over to meet her. They had had a good time on the walk to the theater, and aside from a small scene when she suggested they change their ticket from the girly romantic movie that Cassie had wanted to see to a horror film that had just opened, there hadn't been any real problems.

Morgan had to admit that she had drawn out the argument for the horror film more than had been wise—mostly because it was amusing to see Vayne try and admit that he wasn't scared. At the end of the day, the theater had been happy to give them tickets to a later showing of a superhero movie, and the two of them had decided to get something to eat before the film. Vayne, blushing the whole while, had pulled out his wallet at the counter, waving Morgan off when she tried to tell him that she could pay for her own food.

"You're the one who bought the movie tickets," said Vayne, not quite looking at her. "I can take care of this."

Technically, it had been Cassie who had bought the movie tickets, but Morgan decided not to argue the point, accepting the kindness as the two of them made their way over to a table.

"Are you sure you don't want me to pay you back?" Morgan asked, as they sat down.

"Nah, it's fine," said Vayne, sitting down and pulling his burger closer to himself. "It's nice to be able to treat people like this. I didn't exactly get much of an allowance before the DWMA."

"Shibuko didn't give you an allowance?" Morgan asked, frowning as she picked up her own wrapped sandwich. It had been one of the establishment's 'specials', something that Vayne insisted she had to try. She followed his lead, unwrapping it slowly and trying not to get sauce all over her fingers.

Vayne frowned at her as he chewed, wiping at his mouth with a napkin. He hadn't exactly made his past living at the orphanage in Gallows Manor a secret, but neither was he one to talk about it too much. She wondered if she might have overstepped, but before she had a chance to really open it, Vayne swallowed and smiled.

"We had one," he said. "But it wasn't like, huge or anything. Don't get me wrong, we didn't starve. We were under Shinigami-sama's care, so there was a lot of food and clothes to go around. Way better than…" He waved his hand vaguely. "…before."

"I see," said Morgan, not prying further. She recalled Vayne saying in the past that his life before being found by a DWMA agent and brought to Shibuko was 'not worth talking about'. She remembered Rei saying he had been nine years old when they first became friends. Instead, she turned her attention to her meal, taking a bite of her sandwich. Her eyes widened slightly, and she looked up at Vayne.

"Good?" Vayne asked, grinning at her.

"I'm not sure this is actually food…" Morgan began, but just as Vayne's expression started to turn crestfallen, she smiled. "But it's very good." She took another bite. Vayne laughed.

"We'll make a rebel out of you yet," he promised, taking a handful of fries.

"I'm already a rebel," said Morgan, with a half-smile. She set down her sandwich, wiping at her mouth with a napkin. She couldn't help but wonder what her uncle would think if he saw her now.

"Yeah, I guess so," said Vayne, acknowledging the point. "Still, I was kind of worried you wouldn't want to go to a place like this." He gestured with his free hand, taking in the fast food establishment around them. "You seem really...proper."

"Am I?" Morgan asked, taking another bite. "It's the accent, isn't it? I _have_ been to places like this before, Vayne."

"I know, I know," said Vayne, looking sheepish, "And it's not the accent. I don't know…it's something else. Like an air? You remind me of Gallows Manor sometimes."

"Distant and perfectly symmetrical?"

"No!" said Vayne. "Just—uh—you know. Regal?"

"It's my upbringing," Morgan said. "I apologize if it makes you uncomfortable."

"It doesn't," said Vayne, giving her a quick grin before taking another bite. "Just—you know. It's who you are I guess. Sorry if I'm making you talk about something you'd rather not talk about."

Morgan frowned, looking down at the sandwich in her hands. She probed the knot of anxiety and fear that she had carried around with her since first leaving Avalon, prodding at it like a tongue seeking out the space where a tooth had been. To her surprise, it didn't hurt as much as she thought it would.

"No, this much is fine," she decided. "There were parts of my childhood that weren't all bad."

"But not all good, huh?" asked Vayne, giving her a sympathetic smile. "Yeah, I get that. Have some fries." He pushed the fries over towards her and she looked up at him, shaking her head as she wiped her mouth again.

"I _have_ had fries before, Vayne," she said, picking one up. "We just call them chips where I come from."

"Huh…then what do you call the ones that come in a bag?"

"Crisps." Morgan popped the fry into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "Not that I had any of those, when I lived there."

"I'll bet," said Vayne. "What was it—a personal chef and three course meals?"

"When I behaved," said Morgan, trailing off. The memory of a long stone table came back to her, of her grandmother's displeasure as she sat at the far end, feeling dwarfed by the room around her, trying hard to remain unseen. "…When it was anything at all."

Vayne frowned at her as she trailed off, the smile fading from his face. His expression was surprisingly understanding. His hand twitched forward, making it halfway towards hers before he disguised the motion as picking up a fry.

"Sorry," he said.

"It's fine," said Morgan, trying to make sense of the way her heart jumped when she noticed his hand moving forward. She looked up at him, giving him a tentative smile. "A happier subject, then?"

Vayne practically leaped to concur. "Couldn't agree more," he said, leaning back in his seat. "So about Rei and Ayame…"

* * *

They ended up staying out for longer than either of them expected.

After the movie, which had been a lot of fun, Vayne suggested heading down to the arcade, which to his surprise, Morgan readily accepted. From there, they moved on to a bookshop and later the park, the two of them too wrapped up in conversation to really notice the changes in scenery or the passing of time. By the time they started walking home, the sun had already begun to set, disappearing behind the buildings of Death City and plunging the streets into shadow. Vayne walked Morgan back to her apartment, feeling a flush start to creep up his neck and into his cheeks as they approached the door. He drew back as Morgan stepped forward, standing between him and the door and turning to face him.

"I—uh, had a great time," he said, placing one hand on the back of his neck.

The corner of Morgan's lip quirked up in a smile. "I did as well," she said. "Surprisingly enough."

"Surprisingly?" Vayne teased, smiling back at her. "Really?"

Morgan shook her head, her smile widening slightly. He was filled with the sudden urge to see if he could actually make her _laugh_ , but suppressed it for another time.

"We should do this more often," he said.

"Yes," Morgan said. "We should."

She surprised him then, taking a step forward and leaning up on her tiptoes. Her lips grazed the side of his face, the barest touch, and he stood there in shock, staring at her with wide eyes as she pulled away. Morgan gave him another hint of a smile, then turned, making her way back to her door.

"Good night," she said, with a look back at him.

She opened the door, stepping inside. Vayne stared after her as she left, feeling the heat rise to his face. One of his hands reached up to his cheek, fingers brushing the spot where her lips had touched.

He was smiling like an idiot the whole way home.

* * *

"… _How d'you guys feel about taking the fight to her?"_

Maka sat in a chair in their kitchen, Soul's hands on her shoulders as the two of them concentrated, their souls humming in resonance. Her Soul Perception spread outwards from her, a wide net of awareness that moved outward past the two of them, past the souls of their children, past their neighbors and the people on their street, past the residents of Death City and the students at the DWMA. Working together, they seemed to sift through the tangle of soul wavelengths, the pinpricks of light that littered the surface of the earth like stars, searching for one wavelength in particular. Maka's brow furrowed in concentration as she brought that wavelength up from memory. It was a wavelength she had felt once, during the attack on Death City, coming from the sky on that day.

_The Morrigan._

It had only been a decoy then, but if Maka could find her now…Her mind worked tirelessly, searching for any trace. The Morrigan would be under a Soul Protect, but that would only disguise her soul as belonging to a witch; it wouldn't stop her soul from being _hers_. Now that Maka knew what to look for, surely she could find something.

Images flashed in front of her mind like wildfire, landscapes she had never seen, countries she had been to only once in recent memory, countries she had never been to at all. It was hard to believe that in this wide world, there were places that she had never seen, but she could still _feel_ them, could still search them. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead as she searched, one of her hands reaching up to grip Soul's own.

She would find the Morrigan. She had to.

Cities passed by, towns, places with millions of souls clustered together, places where just one lonely soul hovered in the wilderness. Good people, bad people, souls she thought she recognized, a million more that she knew she didn't. Places where it was the middle of the day, places where it was still full night. Maka grit her teeth, searching through each one. And then, remembering lessons she had learned a long time ago, during the battle with the Kishin, Maka turned her awareness upward, off of the surface of the world.

Into the sky.

Her eyes snapped open, and she let out a gasp like a swimmer coming up for air, the connection between her and Soul snapping apart like an elastic band that had been cut down the middle. She looked up, catching her breath, and then grinned, pushing her sweat-soaked hair out of her face.

_Found you…_

* * *

**Omake**

"I can't believe we managed to get through the whole library," said Clark, rubbing at an ache in his shoulders as he walked with Cassie down the halls of the DWMA. The sun was starting to set outside, casting long shadows through the DWMA's windows. Cassie smiled from beside him, her hands clasped behind her back.

"I told you it wouldn't be that hard, didn't I?" Cassie said.

"You said so," said Clark, "but I didn't believe it."

He paused, stopping suddenly and looking back at the doors of Class Crescent Moon. Was it just his imagination, or had he heard something scraping against the floor.

"Clark?" Cassie asked, looking back at him.

"I thought I heard something," said Clark, gesturing at the classroom. "One moment."

He walked towards it with his arm outstretched, wary in case it was an attacker, and peered inside. Class Crescent Moon's classroom was nearly identical to Class Moonless Night's, its rows of desks standing empty for the weekend. And at the front of the room, where the teacher's desk was, sat—

"Professor Stein?" Clark asked, puzzled.

Stein looked up at him from where he was leaning on the back of his stitched chair, rolling back and forth. He tilted his head quizzically to the side, looking up at Clark.

"What are you doing here?" Clark asked. "It's Saturday."

Stein frowned. Then, his brow furrowed, and he paused to glance down at his watch.

"Oh," he said. "So it is."

He kicked off the floor, his expression never changing, and sped past Clark, still seated in his chair. Clark stared as the professor continued to roll down the hallway, watching until Stein disappeared from sight.

 


	33. To the Ends of the Earth!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those wondering, Blair's secret mission was just to see if there were any agents of the Morrigan left in the city, since she spends a lot of time wandering around in it. I'm going to try and see if I can bring her back at some point, but I have all this plot and not much space left to fit it into (I'm shooting to finish this story at 50 chapters, plus one epilogue and one prologue, so 52 in all).

**CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO**

**To the Ends of the Earth!**

* * *

"You're sure about this?" Shinigami asked, watching Maka from behind his desk. Shinigami-sama's expression was serious, his hands clasped together in front of him. Maka nodded, her own expression grim.

"She's in the sky," Maka said. "Hovering somewhere off the coast of Madagascar."

Shinigami frowned, considering that. "The sky…" he repeated.

"Fata Morgana," said Angela solemnly, turning towards the two of them.

She had been spending most of her time in the Death Room since returning from the Witch Assembly, only leaving during work hours to take reading material from the library and bring it back to look over, or during lunch breaks to borrow the dojo. The wards and spells that she had woven into the Death Room's walls required constant maintenance, and there was no telling when news about the Morrigan might come up. The room was the only place in the DWMA that was safeguarded against the Morrigan's abilities, and Angela wasn't about to let that protection slip away.

The two of them turned to look at her as she spoke, watching her expectantly, as if waiting for her to continue. Angela exhaled, slipping a bookmark into the book she was reading to mark her place. She set it aside, standing up from where she was seated at the edge of the Death Room's raised dais. "The witch Morgana's castle. A castle floating in the sky. It was supposed to have vanished after the Battle of Camlann."

"The final battle of King Arthur?" Shinigami asked.

"The very same," said Angela, pausing to glance down at the book she had left on the ground beside her. Lately she had had reason to take note of the Arthurian legend. Her frown deepened as she remembered the conversation she had had with Morgan, and she looked back up at Shinigami. "Morgana claimed that the castle was destroyed, and most of the witches believed her claim. When she was alive, at least. But she was never really active in the Witch Assembly regardless."

"You think that the Morrigan is using this castle?" Shinigami asked.

"It would make sense," said Angela, nodding. She smoothed her skirt out with her hands, trying not to meet Maka's eye. The teacher had looked away from her, her eyes on the ground and her hand to her mouth as if she was starting to piece something together.

"Morgana…" Angela heard her mutter. "Morgana Le Fay…"

A shiver ran down Angela's spine, her mind flashing back to that afternoon in the tearoom again. She exhaled, willing her worries not to show on her expression as she looked back at Shinigami.

"Are you going after her, sir?" she asked, wanting to change the subject.

Shinigami closed his eyes for a few seconds, breathing deep. When he opened them, his expression was resolute, golden eyes gleaming. "Of course we are," he said, placing both hands on the desk and standing up. "Alert the engineers. We'll need that airship ready to fly." He turned towards Maka. "I'll need you with me on this."

Maka nodded without missing a beat. "Of course."

"Black Star and Tsubaki too," said Shinigami, "And some of the others. We might need to suspend classes in the meantime."

"I'll talk to Soul," said Maka. "We can get a team together by the end of the day. Leave Mifune in charge?"

"That would probably be easiest," said Shinigami, nodding. "Although the students might not be pleased."

Angela watched as the two of them started hashing out the details of the mission, unable to stop herself from feeling a little like an outsider. The two of them spoke in the sort of half-code shared between family members, or between friends who were close enough that they may as well have been family. It made her remember earlier days, when she had been a child at the DWMA and Shinigami and the rest had been a team, when the seven of them had fought the Kishin together.

"And me?" she asked, when their conversation lulled long enough for her to slip in.

"We'll need you on the ship," Shinigami said with a nod, confirming what she had already suspected. "You can use your magic to hide the airship, can't you?"

"I've never used it on something that big before," said Angela, frowning as she ran through some rough calculations. "But yes. I should be able to. It'll be easier with Shelley's help." And she couldn't deny that it was an attractive prospect. Sneaking up on the Morrigan, catching her by surprise the same way that _she_ had been surprising all of them, turn by turn, day by day for the past several months.

It seemed that she wasn't the only one who felt like taking action was overdue.

"Good," said Shinigami, the corners of his lips turning up in a grim smile. "It's about time we finished this."

* * *

The wind whipped around Rei as he moved, launching himself through the training forest's trees. One of his hands reached out, catching a branch, and he quickly used that to redirect his momentum, angling himself towards the ground. He landed on an exhale, knees soft to absorb the shock of the landing and quickly turned, drawing the ninjato in his hand through several quick forms, slashing, cutting, and stabbing at imaginary opponents. They took form in his mind as he worked his way through the motions, shadowy, faceless figures that surrounded him like ghosts. Too many of them, they quickly closed in on him and he turned, darting into the underbrush, into the shadows between the trees.

His breath caught in his chest from the exertion and Rei's eyes narrowed, turning his attention to regulating his breathing. His lungs felt starved for air, but he managed to keep himself from hyperventilating. Deep breaths. Inhale. Exhale. He skidded to a stop in a second clearing as his imaginary pursuers burst through the trees, now taking the form of a flock of crows.

Rei tightened his grip on Ayame's hilt just so, the ninjato lengthening to form a katana. He slashed at the first attacker, a one-handed side cut, then quickly brought his left hand into play, grasping the bottom of the hilt and stepping forward. He thrust, moved and danced through the flock of crows in his mind, Ayame's katana form light in his hands. Feathers flew as the sword moved through the air, sunlight flashing off the blade, and he caught a glimpse of Ayame as he drew the sword back, her eyes narrowed in concentration from within her soul space. The angle of the blade changed, and she vanished with the sun. Rei drew the sword back, the hilt close to his face and the spine of the blade parallel to the ground as he caught his breath, imagining the shadows regrouping, changing form.

They coalesced, forming the vague outline of a man. Rei tapped out a quick pattern and raised his hand to the blade, catching it just as it came apart into the twin scythes of Ayame's kusarigama form. His shadowy attacker rushed at him, hands crackling with dark power, and Rei blocked and deflected each strike with the scythes in his hand, slashing with their curved blades and redirecting his opponent's force.

His stances shifted, becoming lower to the ground as he moved through the clearing, dueling shadows. Kusarigama became shuriken as he pulled the large, star-shaped blade through the air, using it as a shield to deflect attacks before grounding himself, bending his knees and sinking down against the force of the shuriken's momentum as he swung it at his opponent. The tines of the shuriken, razor sharp, sliced through shadows, bisecting the man's slender form. He kept turning the shuriken, not wasting momentum, and spun it at his side, flinging stray shadows off the blade like blood. His eyes blinked closed.

An image flashed into his mind for an instant, the image from his dream. A stag with golden eyes, watching him, arrayed in stripes of alternating black and white, of light and shadow. A shiver ran through him as he opened his eyes.

The shuriken dissolved into light, forming the ninjato again. He spun the blade in his hands, careful of his fingers, and caught it by the hilt, tucking it into his belt behind him.

Practice ended, shadows disappearing with the light. Rei let out a ragged breath, finally allowing himself to pitch forward, resting his hands on his knees as he gasped for air.

"Not bad, Rei-kun," said a voice behind him as he breathed, "But you're still keeping your weight too far back."

Rei looked up at the sound of the voice, his eyes widening.

Behind him, he felt a weight lift from his belt, Ayame appearing at his side in a flash of light. "Mom?" she asked.

Tsubaki gave them a smile that was almost apologetic, holding up her hands. "I didn't mean to startle you," she said. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

Rei shook his head, running a hand through his sweat-soaked hair and turning towards her. "We were just wrapping up," he said. His eyes moved from Tsubaki to the children standing beside her, Annie looking uncertain as she clung to Cori's arm. Bright Star, his hand held in Tsubaki's, gave Rei a slightly skeptical look, his other hand holding a lollipop up to his mouth. He looked back at Tsubaki. "Is it time already?"

"Afraid so," said Tsubaki. "Thank you for looking after them tonight. I know you both have other things you'd rather do."

"It's no problem, Mrs. Star," said Rei. "It's not like I wouldn't watch Annie and Cori anyway."

"Yeah, leave the kids to us," said Ayame, grinning. "You guys go off and kick butt."

"We should be back in the morning," Tsubaki said, handing Bright Star's hand over to Ayame. "If there's any trouble…"

"Hide the kids, fight if I can, call it in if I can't," finished Ayame. She took Bright Star's hand, smiling at her mother. "Not my first rodeo, Mom."

Tsubaki gave her a warm smile, raising a hand to touch Ayame's cheek. The smile had a sad edge to it, and Rei looked away to give them some privacy, busying himself with seeing to his sisters, who had come up to him.

"I know," Tsubaki said, enfolding her in a hug. "You've grown up so much, Ayame-chan. I'm so proud of you."

Ayame responded with a laugh that was just on the edge of nervous. "Come on, Mom," she said, "Don't talk like that. Just another mission, right?"

"Right," Tsubaki said, drawing back from her. That same sad smile was still on her face. "Just another mission. Call if you need anything. It will be a while until we actually get there. We'll see you all tomorrow." She glanced at him, raising her hand in a wave, then turned to leave.

Rei stared after her, aware that Annie and Cori were watching him. He cleared his throat. "Um…Mrs. Star?"

Tsubaki paused in her walk, looking over her shoulder. She frowned at him in concern. "Yes, Rei-kun?"

He walked over to her, standing just out of earshot of the others. Now that he had her attention though, he found that he couldn't speak. He lowered his eyes to the ground, shifting his weight uncertainly, aware of her eyes on him.

"Rei-kun?" Tsubaki prompted.

"How bad is it?" Rei asked, keeping his voice down. "Really?"

Tsubaki's expression darkened for an instant, and that told Rei all that he needed to know. But she placed her hand on his shoulder as he looked away, giving him a reassuring smile anyway. "Well, it won't be easy," she admitted. "But it'll be alright. We've all fought worse."

"They'll be fine, right?" Rei asked, his voice wavering somewhat. He remembered the strength of the man he had seen talking to Morgan, balancing that against what he had felt from his parents' souls, when they resonated together. They were strong, but Morgan's uncle was strong too, and even he seemed scared of the Morrigan. When he spoke, it sounded almost as if he was trying to reassure himself. "They'll be alright?"

Tsubaki looked down at him, and he wondered what he must have looked like in her eyes. Probably like a child. His face burned, but she didn't tease him for it, instead squeezing his shoulder lightly.

"They'll be fine," he said. " _Trust_ them. Focus on yourself, on keeping everyone safe. Alright, Rei-kun?"

He drew in a breath. "Alright," he said.

Tsubaki nodded, her hand sliding from his shoulder. She gave him another smile as she raised her hand in farewell, turning to leave. Rei watched her go, his heart heavy, then let out a breath and turned back towards Ayame.

Somehow, in the time that he been speaking to Tsubaki, she had gotten the kids in a line. The three of them were in varying approximations of fighting stances, and Ayame was leaning over Cori, giving her instructions as she pressed her arms and legs into place. He made his way back over to her, frowning at them.

"What are you doing?" he asked Ayame.

Ayame shrugged, continuing to correct Cori's stance. "The kids saw us training," she said. "They wanted to join in."

"Really?" asked Rei, turning his attention to Annie. She held the stance that Ayame was teaching without complaining, but looked profoundly miserable.

"Cori's idea…" she said, as if that explained everything.

Rei looked back over at Ayame, who was frowning as she tried to get Cori to straighten up. "No, no," Ayame said. "Wider stance, lower to the ground. Your weight's too far forward. And don't think you can slack off, Bright Star, I see you!"

Bright Star, whose stance was already close to perfect, let out an exasperated breath, settling into a proper stance almost effortlessly. Rei, who had spent weeks with Ayame learning the ins and outs of various stances, hated him for just a second.

"Can I help with anything?" Rei asked.

"You could get Annie started," said Ayame, smiling brightly. "You know this one, right?"

He nodded, turning towards Annie. She gave him a look of resignation so deep that it seemed etched into her very soul, her eyes tracking towards Cori for a moment as her sister struggled under Ayame's instructions. Rei nodded at her to show that he understood and crouched down, helping her get herself into stance.

Within a few minutes of this, Ayame had the twins practicing rudimentary punches and kicks, while Bright Star did flips and a handful of katas in the background. Rei, who had been feeling good about his progress just a second ago, tried not to look at the six-year-old too much. He focused on working with Annie, who, despite her obvious reluctance, actually seemed to be willing to listen to instruction.

"I already know how to throw a punch!" Cori protested, from somewhere next to them.

"Oh yeah?" Ayame challenged. "Show me."

Cori grit her teeth, winding up for the punch. There was a thud as she tripped over Ayame's foot, landing face first on the ground. Rei looked up from where he was holding out his hands for Annie to strike into, making sure that she was alright, but she was already picking herself up off the ground, a frustrated scowl on her face. Ayame, watching her with her hands on her hips, seemed to enjoy the challenge.

"That's no fair!" Cori protested. "You tripped me."

"Alright," Ayame said. "Then why don't you try again?"

A second later, Cori let out a yelp of surprise, sailing over Ayame's shoulder and landing in a bush not far from where they were training. Annie, by now working on kicks, let out a long-suffering sigh.

* * *

"They're going to sleep tonight at least," said Rei when they were done, taking a sip from his water bottle and watching the kids chase each other through the training forest—Bright Star with a bored expression on his face, Cori determined, and Annie reluctant.

"Like rocks," Ayame agreed, grinning from where she was standing next to him. She raised her own water bottle to her mouth, taking long sips. "That was fun, though."

"Really?" Rei asked, frowning at her. "You think?"

Ayame nodded. "I like teaching," she said. "It's kind of nice, seeing everyone start to get better."

Rei frowned at her words, his mind going back to their rooftop conversation, to her fears that people were going to resent her, to leave her behind because of her skill. He said nothing, but watched the children as they played together, taking another long sip.

* * *

Morgan stood on the DWMA's balcony, her eyes fixed on the horizon as she contemplated the idea of the attack. The fact that DWMA had located and was preparing to launch a full-scale attack on the Morrigan wasn't common knowledge, for obvious reasons, but she had heard about it through a carefully worded conversation with Rei, who was looking after his and Ayame's siblings for the night. It left her with a sour taste in her mouth, a bad feeling sitting like lead in the pit of her stomach. A premonition, or just her own fear? She found that she couldn't tell anymore.

Mordred's words from that afternoon came back to her, the conversation they had had at the bar before Rei had interrupted.

" _Right now, she thinks that you're traipsing around Europe, rebelling in the sort of way she and your mother both did when they were young witches. I have done nothing to disillusion her, but if she finds out what you've truly been doing, Morgan, not even I will be able to save you from her…"_

There was a hint of threat in the words, a hint of promise, however regretful. She had never asked her uncle what had truly happened to her mother. She had never really wanted to know.

A raven, perched at the edge of the balcony railing a few feet away from her, let out a raucous caw and took flight, a sign that Morgan wasn't alone. She relaxed her grip on the railing of the balcony, pushing herself back from it, and was about to turn around when her visitor spoke.

"I thought I'd find you out here."

Angela. Morgan's heartbeat quickened in a way that threatened to make her dizzy, and she kept her eyes fixed on the raven as it flew away, trying to focus on the interplay of sunlight and black feathers and not the way her skin crawled, the fear in her heart twisting and growing. In a lot of ways, Angela Leon scared her. Because she was another witch, and because she knew the secret that Morgan had trusted her with, held the keys to destroy Morgan's life. The fact that she hadn't done it made Morgan respect her as well as fear her, but Morgan knew that with the stakes continuing to climb, it was only a matter of time.

It felt like her whole life had been just waiting for the other shoe to fall.

"I thought you wouldn't speak to me again," Morgan said.

"It doesn't really matter now, does it?" Angela asked, walking up to her. Morgan felt a prickle travel across her skin as Angela stood next to her, a heaviness in the air that spoke of magic. A concealing spell of some kind, she thought, remembering what she knew about Angela. A chameleon witch, what she lacked in destructive magic, she made up for in endless utility. Angela's hand went out, finger tracing the stone of the railing for a few moments, and Morgan got the sense that the other witch was gathering her breath, getting ready to say something.

Morgan held hers, waiting.

"If you're out here," Angela said. "I'm going to assume you know about the launch."

Morgan nodded, not looking at the other witch. She didn't come out and say what she knew. She didn't know how strong Angela's concealing spells were, but she knew her grandmother, and didn't want to be the one that drew her attention to the DWMA at this time. But still, the heaviness in her chest demanded that she warn them anyway.

"It's a trap, you know," she said.

Angela looked at her sidelong. "Are you saying that because of your divination magic, or because you're scared of her?"

"Both," Morgan admitted. She let out a sharp exhale, her hands tightening into fists. "Neither. I'm not sure. All I know is that if it feels like it's too easy, it probably is."

"Could you find out?" Angela asked. "I might be able to put up an area-wide Soul Protect, let you use magic for a little while without being revealed."

The temptation called at her, tugging at her chest with a longingthat was almost painful. Angela had been right; she did miss using magic. Not because of the Pull, not because of its destructive potential. The bracelet took care of that, but because of what she was. Cassie helped with that, but didn't take it away.

As tempted as she was, though, she shook her head. "It wouldn't help," she said. "I wouldn't be able to see through her wards. People talk about divination magic like it's some way to see into the future, but the only thing I see are portents, omens, feelings. Those are passive—I get them even without using magic—and they're few and far between, and prone to misinterpretation. If I were actively using magic, I might be able to tell you a little more about the present, maybe the past. But not if I'm being blocked, which, knowing my grandmother, I almost certainly would be."

And any poking at those wards would reveal her. Morgan had learned that firsthand as a child, and wasn't willing to repeat the experience now.

"So what you're saying is, you just have a bad feeling?" Angela asked.

Morgan nodded.

"You'll forgive me if I take that under advisement?"

Morgan nodded again.

"But I'll take note of it," said Angela, clasping her hands behind her and letting out a sigh. "Mifune's going to be in charge of the school while we're gone. I'll tell him to be careful."

Morgan nodded, watching her for a second before looking away. She felt a pang of envy at the trust that Angela and Mifune shared, the bond between them. The closest thing she had had to a parental figure was Mordred, and she had no doubt that he would kill her himself if her grandmother ordered it. It didn't do anything to loosen the knot in her gut.

"You didn't come here to ask me that, though," Morgan said after a while. It wasn't a question.

"No," said Angela. "I came to warn you. Your secret isn't safe for too much longer. I think Maka-sensei might have already figured it out, but she's been too distracted by the mission to act on it."

Fear. Cold and bright and so terrible that Morgan could taste it in her throat. She felt her muscles tense and seize up, and despite the fact that her expression hadn't changed, despite the fact that she hadn't moved, her whole body felt the sudden, intense urge to run. Instead, she exhaled, forcing the tension out of her hands, forcing her limbs to relax.

"I see," she said, tone clipped. "Thank you for telling me."

"You should say something," Angela pressed. "Tell the truth before it all comes out. It will be different if it comes from you."

Morgan shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. Her uncle's warning was still in the back of her mind, along with the memory of her grandmother's fury. She couldn't say anything. Not now. Not when the DWMA needed to focus on what it was about to do.

"It won't matter," she said, although she couldn't tell whether she was trying to convince Angela or herself. "It won't matter in the end. If you come back successful, this will be over. I'll tell them everything then."

"And if we fail?" Angela asked.

 _Then you won't come back_ , Morgan thought, but didn't say anything. Angela seemed to understand anyway. She watched her out of the corner of her eye for a moment before nodding, as much to herself as to Morgan, and turning back around.

Her footsteps quietly faded away.

* * *

"They're coming," Mordred said, standing in the shadow of his mother's throne.

"I'm aware."

The Morrigan smiled from where she sat, her chin propped up in her hand and her nails brushing against the side of her cheek, talons that flashed black in the throne room's light. Her eyes were fixed on the mirror in front of her, on the faces reflected in it, on the airship that launched itself into the sky. A woman appeared in the mirror, blond haired and green eyed, staring off into the horizon on the airship's prow with an expression of determination on her face. The Morrigan's smile widened. "Oh, Maka dear," she said, "you are nothing if not predictable."

"You'd like me to go, then?" Mordred asked.

"Yes," said the Morrigan, flicking the fingers of her other hand at him in a dismissive gesture. "Go."

Mordred nodded, lowering himself into a bow. He turned to leave, then paused, standing framed in the arched doorway of her throne room. "Should I prepare for our guests?" he asked.

The Morrigan shook her head. "I have preparations enough for them," she said. "But I doubt they'll ever arrive. The rats are ever so protective of their little desert nest, after all."

Mordred nodded, his expression so still that it may have been carved from stone. "And," he asked. "Our other guests?"

"I'm sure you'll find that everything's already been prepared," said the Morrigan, smiling. "They'll be quite _comfortable_ here."

Mordred nodded, but there was a hint of hesitation about him now as he turned away, one that made the Morrigan frown. She watched as he started to leave the room, her eyes on him until he passed beneath the archway of the doors.

"Mordred," she said, calling him back.

He looked over his shoulder at her, his expression still stone. "Mother?" he asked.

"If you have the time, see if you can find where that granddaughter of mine got off to," the Morrigan said. "We're approaching the end of our plan. The last thing we need is a loose end."

A flicker in Mordred's expression. Unease? Well, it hardly mattered. It was gone almost before it arrived. He nodded, bowing deep. "I'll see what I can find," he said. "And if I can retrieve her, I will."

* * *

The airship soared overhead, gleaming brightly in the afternoon sunlight. Clark raised his hand to his glasses to hold them in place as the wind of its passing filtered down into the training grounds, whipping through the trees. Ahead of him, Vayne raised his head, one hand in the pocket of his jacket as he watched the airship go by. His partner's expression was contemplative, a frown on his face as the machine faded into the distance.

"Well," Clark said. "There it goes."

"Yeah," Vayne said, slowly looking away.

A stray gust of wind, kicked up by the airship, rustled through the trees, leaves slowly falling to the ground. Clark took another swig of water, then set the bottle down, extending his hand towards Vayne.

"Shall we try again?" Clark asked.

Vayne looked up at him and slowly seemed to come back to himself, his mind returning from wherever it was that it had gone. A smile spread across his face as he regarded Clark's hand. He nodded.

"Might as well," he said. "If things go south, we'll need that technique."

Clark smiled back, adjusting his glasses. Light reflected against them, the light of Vayne's transformation as he took on his weapon form.

" _Soul Resonance!"_ the two of them said in unison. A ticking sound rang in Clark's ears, a thousand clocks, a hundred thousand all moving together as one as his hands closed around Vayne's hilt. A thousand clocks that fell silent in an instant, winding down to nothing.

Leaves fell from the trees, drifting slowly towards the ground. They twisted and turned, buoyed this way and that by the breeze.

And then they stopped.

* * *

The airship sped across the ocean, chasing the horizon. The waves beneath it were untouched by its passing, the ship not leaving so much as a shadow. Angela stood on the airship's prow, a look of concentration on her face as she placed one hand on Shelley's scalpel form, magical energies crackling around her like electricity. Once in a while, some of those energies would brush up against Maka's Soul Perception, making her shiver. She stood on the bridge next to Kid, her eyes on the horizon as they inched ever closer towards the Morrigan's castle, closer and closer to the ends of the earth.

It felt wrong. Everything about this felt wrong. She found herself weighed down by an uneasiness she couldn't name, something that felt like more than the usual pre-battle nervousness. The wrongness had hung in the air since the airship had taken off, and it had only gotten worse as their voyage lengthened, as they grew ever closer to their goal, and ever farther from the city behind.

It seemed too easy, entirely too easy. Finding the Morrigan hadn't been _simple_ , but at least it had been possible. She had agreed with this plan in the beginning, but the more she thought about it, the more she felt concerned. It wasn't like it was a secret that her Soul Perception was strong. Kid didn't talk about it much, didn't make a point of saying just how strong her Soul Perception was, because doing so would give up whatever tactical advantage having her on their side gave them, but with time and resources, it wouldn't be hard to infer the truth. And the Morrigan had time and resources.

If anything, the Morrigan had always been one step ahead of them.

A chill ran through her, and she extended her Soul Perception, her hands tightening into fists as she pushed past the airship, past the souls on board, moving her thoughts back towards the city. Towards the city that they had left, that they were now speeding away from, heading towards it's antipode, to the exact opposite side of the world.

Her eyes widened and cold gripped her heart. The noise of the airship faded to static, her world focusing in to a point as fear filled her, bright and terrible. For a second, she wasn't standing there, wasn't standing on the bridge of an airship next to her husband and partner, surrounded by her team and the rest of the DWMA's finest warriors. For a second she was back _there,_ looking over the city, seeing the threat that was quickly approaching. The vision released her as the ship hit a patch of turbulence and she staggered forward, nearly falling over. She caught her balance and remained crouching, not getting back up.

"Maka?" Soul was by her side in an instant, a hand on her shoulder as he crouched down next to her. His eyes were wide. "Hey—are you alright?"

Maka held one gloved hand close to her face, clenching it into a fist. She grit her teeth, focusing in on that vision, focusing on what she had seen. Her eyes snapped open, fear giving way to anger, and she opened her hand.

"Soul!" she said, extending the hand towards her partner.

* * *

Rei carried Annie up the stairs, cradling the small girl in his arms as she slept peacefully. He hadn't been wrong—the twins had fallen asleep almost immediately after dinner, dozing off on the sofa in front of the cartoon that Ayame had put on for them. He hadn't even had to remind them about their bedtime. In his arms, Annie squirmed, turning her head into his chest and murmuring something in her sleep. Rei smiled down at her, shaking his head and shifting her weight to one arm so that he could open her bedroom door.

He'd already carried Cori to bed, and the older twin barely twitched as Rei stepped into the room, laying Annie in the bed closest to the window. He put her down as carefully as he was able, pulling the blanket up around her shoulders and patting her on the head once before heading outside. She slept on, only stirring to pull her blanket up closer to herself.

He looked back at the two of them to make sure that all was well, then closed the door, letting out all of his breath in a long sigh. His eyes moved towards the bathroom, where Ayame was arguing with Bright Star about brushing his teeth, her voice carrying down the nearly silent hallway. She seemed like she had it under control, so Rei turned and walked down a path he hadn't walked in a long time, in two years that felt like forever.

He walked down the path to his childhood room.

The room hadn't changed much since the last time Rei had seen it. It seemed bare, sparse now that most of his things had been moved to his DWMA apartment, but Maka had laid fresh sheets out on the bed and his old books and posters were still here, shelves lining the walls that told of a life lived. There was a bench by the window, a cushioned little alcove on top of a low shelf that held some of his old treasures, and Rei took a seat at it, drawing one knee up to himself and letting the other dangle over the side of the shelf. He looked out over the city and thought about a time when he had lived in this room, when this room and this house had been his whole world, and when he hadn't really known Ayame. The room, just like those memories, felt small, like they didn't fit him anymore. Like a favorite shirt he had outgrown.

It was sad, in a way. His life at the DWMA was exciting and colorful, his friends were great, and Ayame was something else entirely, but living here had been safe, comfortable. It was something he would have wanted, if he could only have one without giving up the other.

"Worried?" Ayame asked, from his doorway.

Rei glanced over at her, tearing his eyes away from the window. She was holding Bright Star's hand, the two of them already dressed for bed. Bright Star blinked up at him, not looking at all sleepy. "What makes you think that?" Rei asked.

Ayame frowned. "You have that look on your face," she said. "That faraway look you get when you're worried about something. Are you worried about your parents?"

Rei blinked, the question taking him by surprise. He turned back towards the window, glancing at his reflection in the glass. "A look on my face, huh…" he repeated. He hadn't been thinking about his parents. But given the circumstances, he maybe should have been. "I wasn't worrying about them, actually. I don't know what it is, but they always come back."

A weight settled onto the cushion beside him, making Rei look up. Ayame sat next to him, having crossed the room so quietly that Rei almost didn't notice. She smiled, one hand on Bright Star's as she perched close to the edge of the cushion, so close that when Rei turned his head to face her, she filled his vision. The warmth of her filled the air between them as she turned towards him.

"I know what you mean," she said. "They seem larger than life, don't they? Like they can't ever die."

"Yeah," said Rei, nodding, "I guess that's it."

"We'll get there someday," said Ayame, "You and me. We'll get there together."

She spoke with that breathless quality that she acquired when she was dreaming of the future, and he stared at her. It was when she was like that that she was most distracting, most enchanting, and he found that he couldn't look away. His eyes fixed on hers as she stared off into the distance, at the reflections of light in her violet eyes, at the way the glory of her dream seemed to suffuse her, making her shine brighter, making her almost glow. A flush spread over his cheeks, his own eyes widening, and she turned towards him then, her eyes widening in surprise before he could make himself look away.

Ayame stared back at him and it was like he was trapped. No, he thought, it was like the two of them were trapped. Stuck in place, locked in sync, the universe dwindling down to a point until they were the only things that existed in the world, until the only thing that mattered was that his heart was pounding and she was close and he wanted her to be _closer…_

Until Bright Star tugged on her sleeve and broke the spell.

Ayame jerked her head away, breaking their gaze, and warmth spread its way across her cheeks. She jumped up quickly, a wave of cold air rushing to replace her warmth, and Rei would have mourned the loss if his own face wasn't quickly turning an impossible shade of red.

"Right," she said to Bright Star, speaking fast. "You want to sleep, huh? No worries, I'll put you to bed. Come on." She looked back over her shoulder, her expression almost apologetic as she flashed him a grin. "Sorry, Rei. I'll see you in the morning."

"I'm not sleeping for a while," Rei said, the words leaving his mouth before he could even really think about them. "You could…" _come back._ She could come back, and talk to him, and maybe they could figure out what that had been all about, why his heart was still pounding.

Ayame's grin grew a shade more sheepish. "Sorry," she said, and it sounded genuine. "I can't leave him alone. He'll get into some kind of trouble."

Rei glanced at Bright Star, looking back at Ayame. "He seems really well-behaved," Rei pointed out.

"Yeah, just you wait," Ayame said, tugging Bright Star's hand in the direction of the door. "Twenty bucks says he'll do something to make you take it back before my parents leave town. Come on, kid, let's go to sleep."

Ayame left the room, Bright Star following her. Rei listened as their footsteps moved down the hallway, heading towards the master bedroom. He spread out his Soul Perception, tracking them until the door to the room closed behind them, cutting him off. Then he exhaled, letting out a long sigh as he returned to looking back out at the city, the room somehow feeling smaller and emptier than before.


	34. Threshold Pt. 1; Hypnagogia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you're all blaming Bright Star, but put yourself in the kid's shoes. What self-respecting little boy wouldn't interrupt his older sister if he happened to be present, in the same room with her, standing right next to her while such a moment was potentially happening, haha?
> 
> In all seriousness, as a writer, I don't like almost-kisses. While that might sound hypocritical, I'll qualify it by saying I don't like almost-kisses when they're used needlessly to increase romantic tension and are ignored by the characters involved when it's convenient, or when they don't lead to an acceptable resolution. So keep that in mind, because the Reiame (yes, pokelover01, I'm using your couple name) resolution (i.e. 'The Kiss') might be delayed in coming due to plot, but pay close attention to the interactions between our intrepid heroes in the future.
> 
> I'm also going to point out, at the risk of saying too much, that when I write romance I don't usually make 'The Kiss' the be-all and end-all of the romantic relationship, nor do I make it the 'start' of the relationship (maybe the official 'start', but not the unofficial 'start') unless that actually fits with the characters involved. So enjoy~

**CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE**

**Threshold Pt. 1; Hypnagogia**

* * *

Maka didn't stop to alert anyone, didn't stop to tell anyone what was wrong or what she had sensed. There wasn't time for that. Kid and the others would understand. They had wasted enough time already.

The second that Soul transformed, she closed her hand around the flash of light that would become his scythe form, running for the ship's prow. She pushed past a startled Angela and closed her free hand around the railing, pulling herself up and kicking off of it with one foot. Soul's form stabilized just as she started to fall and she landed neatly on top of the scythe's shaft, wings sprouting from its blade as her partner drew power from her Grigori soul. Soul's wings caught the breeze and they quickly began to rise, coming back to the same level as the airship's bridge.

"Maka!" Kid yelled, darting out from the bridge to lean over the railing and shout at her. "What do you think you're doing? You can't just—."

Maka ignored him, pulling up on Soul's handle to slow their ascent and then putting on a burst of speed. As the two of them shot back towards Death City, she heard Kid shout a curse behind them.

"Dammit!" the Shinigami yelled. "Turn around! Turn this ship around! We've been played!"

Any response was quickly drowned out by the roar of the wind as they flew, and Maka sank down into a seat, silently urging Soul to go even faster.

* * *

_Darkness pressed in on her from all sides, holding her close like a vise, clutching, squeezing. Morgan struggled to break away from it, arms extended to either side of her as she shoved at the ever-present darkness in despair, her mouth open in a silent scream. The world faded at the edges for a second, and then came back into focus. All around her was the darkness, the world around her swallowed up by it. It twisted and writhed, brimming with hatred and fear._

_She struggled to the surface, fighting back against the fear in her heart as she tried to get her bearings. The world was shadowed, but there were still things she could make out. The light of the DWMA in the distance. The moon, high above, black and grinning. Eyes._

_The eyes hung in the sky, large and luminous. They were red, a shade of red so bright that it almost seemed as though it couldn't exist. Fear rushed through her, bright and terrible. She could taste it in the back of her throat, could feel its cold fingers around her heart. A face resolved around the eyes, a fair face, frozen in the prime of her beauty. A pale face, similar to Morgan's, fine of features and almost delicate in appearance. The darkness around the face resolved itself into hair, into black locks pinned up at the back of a head, threaded through liberally with white._

_With white in the shape of eyes._

_Fear spread, and Morgan woke up with a start._

She sat up in bed, clutching the sheets close to herself as she took deep breaths. The fear was still on her, a terrible cold that seemed as though it would never leave. Morgan hugged her arms close to herself and realized that the fabric of her nightgown was plastered to her skin, damp with a cold sweat. She ran a hand over her face and took several, shaky breaths, trying to erase the terror of the vision. A sound rang in her ears, hard and grating, and it took her a while to realize that Quoth was cawing, that he was perched at the foot of her bed calling continually at her.

Slowly, her fingers unhooked themselves from around her arms, leaving red marks in the skin where her hands had touched. She pushed the blankets off of herself and slipped her legs over the side, getting up to her feet and walking over to her room's window. Her and Cassie's apartment was on the first floor, and so the window opened up on a street-level view of Death City, showing her nothing more than her surrounding area.

If she craned her neck, she could see the towering structure of the DWMA. Its candles were lit, even in the dark of night, and despite the attack a few weeks prior, the building looked whole. In one piece. Certainly nothing like the building in her vision, which had been swallowed by the darkness.

The darkness. Her grandmother. Morgan grit her teeth and leaned forward, her forehead resting against the cool pane of glass.

It took her a minute to realize that Quoth was still cawing. But when she did, she let her eyes drift skyward again, taking note of the ravens that had gathered on the rooftops around her apartment, watching her, their dark eyes glittering in the dark. A shiver ran down her spine as she took in the sight in front of her. One of her hands reached out, fingers tracing the window glass.

Omens. Portents. Foretellings.

She exhaled, stepping away from the window, and ran her hands through the tangle of her hair. With careful deliberation, Morgan pulled her wardrobe open, reaching for her blouse and skirt.

"You can stop now," she told Quoth, a little irritably. "I'm going."

* * *

Vayne woke up to the sound of his phone ringing, the song that he had chosen for his ringtone echoing in the quiet of his room. He groaned, rubbing sleep from his eyes, and sat up, reaching for it. His hand didn't quite work the first time, but he managed to grasp the phone a second time around and glancing at the screen. His eyes widened slightly as he realized who it was, and he sat up in bed, pressing the phone to his ear.

"Cassie?" he asked. "Everything alright?"

" _No!"_ said Cassie, sounding frantic. _"Everything's not alright, Vayne! Do you know where Morgan is?"_

Vayne looked around the room, his stomach sinking. His eyes drifted towards the clock at his bedside table, the bright green letters telling him that it was just a little bit after two in the morning.

"No," he said, now fully awake. He pushed himself out of bed. "No idea. What's going on, Cass?"

" _She disappeared!"_ said Cassie. _"I just—she's not in her room, Vayne. She doesn't have a phone. And—and—."_

"And what?" Vayne asked, tightening his grip on his phone in alarm. He tried to keep the panicked edge from his tone as he spoke, not wanting to set her off any further. "Calm down, Cass. I'm here to help, okay? Just take a deep breath and talk to me."

There a pause on the other end of the line as Cassie gulped down breaths of air, the faint hint of static over the phone making it sound like she was hyperventilating.

" _She took Quoth,"_ Cassie finally said. _"And—and her hat. I think she's gone."_

Vayne nearly dropped the phone.

* * *

" _Look, there. That's him…"_

" _Who? That little boy…?"_

" _He's the Morrigan's son."_

" _Oh, he looks like such a little gentleman! But it's rare, isn't it? For a sorcerer to be born?"_

" _It_ is _rare. They say it's because of his father."_

" _His father?"_

" _Well, you didn't hear it from me, but they say he was a king…"_

Mordred closed his eyes from where he stood on a rooftop in Death City, long-forgotten voices resounding in his ears. For a moment, he was a boy again, sitting on the grand steps of the entrance hall in Avalon, pretending to ignore the whispers. Pretending that he couldn't hear them. For half a moment, the centuries were falling away, and he was a boy…

_The book in his hands was heavy and thick, dusty with the passage of time. He ran a hand uncertainly over the cover, but didn't open it to read, his ears still trained on the conversations around him. The courtyard was full of activity and light, the witches that surrounded him cooing at him and offering platitudes in his direction before heading up the stairs to find his mother. From somewhere upstairs, he could hear muffled laughter. He sat there uncertainly, unsure what to do with himself. He was supposed to be studying, but somehow, he didn't feel like it anymore._

" _There you are!"_

_Morgana's voice was sharp as she marched over to him, sunlight reflecting off the beads of silver sewn into her gown. Even in her childhood, she was striking, their mother in miniature. Her hair was the same raven black as his, tied in a complicated pattern at the back of her head. Her skin, like his, was alabaster pale, her eyes the color of dark wine. Light gleamed in them as she strode over to him, the crowd giving way around her like mists giving way before the dawn. She made her way up to him and grabbed his wrists, and he stared at her with wide eyes, uncertain as always when it came to his sister._

" _I should have known you'd be sitting around here," she said. "It's a beautiful day outside. Come play with me."_

" _I…I have to study…" Mordred began._

" _Study later," said Morgana. "There's something I want to see."_

_She tugged him to his feet, moving quickly towards the front door, and he followed, stumbling at first, but quickly matching her pace, the book tumbling out of his hands and onto the tiled ground. Morgana kept a hand on his wrist, almost tight enough to hurt, but he didn't complain, throwing his free arm up over his eyes and turning away as they emerged into the noontime sun. He followed her pace and didn't complain, because that was always how they were, and things were as they should be._

_Morgana was bright and beautiful, and she always knew what to do. He was content to follow her, content to stay in her shadow as she grew and brightened and shone. Because she was his sister and he loved her. Because they were twins and he loved her._

_Because they were ten years old, and they had the whole world…_

He opened his eyes on a heavy exhale, a breeze moving through his hair and tugging at his cloak. The memory faded like smoke, leaving him back in the present day, the weight of his burdens pressing down on him like chains.

The weight of his sins.

His hands opened and closed at his side, fingers flexing and releasing as he looked out over Death City. The city slept on, unaware of the events that were soon to occur within it, unaware of the events that would soon shake the entire world beneath it. Above it hung the structure of the DWMA, always watching, a constant presence and a reminder. Mordred eyed it for a second before lowering his eyes back towards the streets itself. He thought of Morgana and how he had failed her twice, thought of Morgana and how he would fail her again.

Another face came to mind, a man this time, dressed in gleaming armor. A hand on his shoulder, the weight of the armor pressing down on him, a cheerful voice in his ear. A laugh.

" _Come now, brother, don't look so glum. When the battle's over, we'll feast together, you and I."_

His eyes hardened, the fingers of one hand clenching into a tight fist as he banished the specter of his memory away. The memory of Morgana's tears.

An old maxim came to mind, something that had been adapted from another dark time in history, something that seemed especially appropriate today.

_Duty is heavier than a mountain…_

Mordred's eyes moved over the rooftops and streets of Death City. He unclenched his fist, gathering power to his fingertips, pooling together the raw energy of the world.

The lamplight reflected off of his eyes as the shadows closed in around him, swallowing him up, hiding him from view. Morgana's eyes, eyes the color of wine.

Eyes the color of blood.

* * *

_Rei opened his eyes to the sunlight warming his face, a soft breeze stirring the grass around him. He pushed himself up, his weight crushing the soft grass beneath his fingertips. The air smelled sweet, like a spring day after the rain, and the breeze was pleasantly cool. The world around him was an endless sea of green, a cloudless blue sky stretching on in all directions._

_He wasn't alone. Rei looked to his left and saw the stag from his dream standing there, staring intently at something hovering in the air in front of it. The hovering thing looked almost like smoke, an orb made of smoke that shifted and turned, so that it was difficult to grasp the whole picture. It was wispy, insubstantial. If Rei didn't know what to look for, if he hadn't had any experience seeing souls in the past, he wouldn't have known that it was a soul._

" _Whose soul is that?" he asked, surprised at the sound of his own voice. It was hushed, as if he had just woken up from a long sleep._

_The stag glanced at him sidelong, and Rei felt the weight of its gaze as it turned towards him, taking him in. He wondered for half a second if the stag could even speak. It seemed like an odd question to ask, but there was intelligence in those eyes, the sense of centuries of experience behind that gaze._

_When the stag spoke, its voice was surprising. Gentle, almost, but with a weight behind it that Rei couldn't place. Its mouth didn't move, the sound seeming to emanate from the air around it._

" _Are you telling me, Rei Evans, that you don't know?"_

_Rei gave the soul another look, taking in its shifting patterns, its smoke-like quality. His eyes widened, and he placed his hands over his own chest, as if by doing so he could grasp at his own soul. "That's not—it can't be…mine?"_

" _This space exists outside the bounds of your usual reality," said the stag, turning its gaze back towards the soul. "This is your dream. Your soul can technically manifest anywhere."_

_Rei looked at the soul again, studying it in a new light. He had seen the soul of everyone close to him before, at one point or another, but he hadn't realized until now that he had never actually seen his own. He stood up, pushing himself to his feet, and walked over to it. The air had a heavy quality, slowing his movements and reminding him that he was moving through a dream._

_He reached out, stretching his hand towards the soul. There was a protective dome around it, preventing him from touching it, but he could still feel the warmth that suffused him as his fingers came in contact with the dome, the pale orb shying back as if hiding from his touch. He looked back at the stag, who Rei noticed with a shiver was now watching him, gold eyes on him._

" _It's so…thin…" he said._

" _Like smoke," the stag agreed. "Like mist on the breeze. Hollow."_

_The word felt like a pronouncement, and it sat heavy in Rei's chest, weighing on him as he looked back at the soul. He studied it, pressing his hand against the dome that surrounded it, taking in its shifting patterns. "It's trying to hide," he said._

" _It doesn't seem to favor observation," the stag said, its eyes still on Rei. Rei kept his gaze fixed on the soul, trying not to look at the stag standing next to him. "You are…different, Rei Evans. I have encountered many young warriors before, but I'm not sure what to make of you…"_

_Rei felt his face burn, and despite the fact that he tried not to look at the stag, he could still see it out of the corner of his eye, a weight at the edge of his vision. "I'm not a warrior," he said._

" _Aren't you?" the stag asked._

_Rei shook his head, his fingers curling slightly from where they were pressed against the soul's dome._

" _Then who are you, Rei Evans? Are you a demon?"_

_Rei shook his head again. "Not that either."_

" _Then who_ _are_ _you?"_

_Rei was silent for a long moment, considering the question. He didn't know the answer. Something squirmed inside him, uncomfortably, and he found his attention completely grasped by the soul in front of him. The center of his being, and it did its best to elude observation. He wasn't sure what that said around him._

" _I'm just…"_

_A nobody. A student. Someone doing the best that they can._

"… _a ghost," he finished lamely, his eyes fixed in front of him. Something like sorrow settled into his chest as he spoke, and he felt the truth of that statement curl around his heart, around his very soul._

" _Interesting…" the stag said, after a moment that felt entirely too long. "I don't give my power to ghosts."_

" _Who are_ you _?" Rei asked, trying to change the subject, to divert the stag's attention away from himself. He felt laid bare, everything that he was spread out on a table, and he didn't like the feeling._

" _I?" the stag asked. "I am the cumulative power of centuries. The Will of the Nakatsukasa Clan…"_

" _Ayame…" Rei breathed, looking at the world around him. Suddenly the brightness of it all made sense, the sunshine and the green, green grass._

" _Ayame," the stag said, "And Tsubaki. Sanjuro. Noboru. Mitsuhiro. Kaede. Daigoro. I could go on."_

_Rei shook his head. "There's no need," he said. "I think I get the picture. You…talked to all of their meisters this way?"_

" _All of them," the stag said, "And more. More who failed the test. More who weren't worthy of the power they held."_

" _What happens to those who fail?" Rei asked, although he already knew the answer._

" _They die," the stag said. "Although not by my hand. Power comes at a price, young one. The people that have passed beneath my gaze have been varied, some worthier of power than others, but there has been one constant between them, one invariable link. It has always been a price that the meisters of the Nakatsukasa have been willing to pay." He turned that gaze towards Rei again, and this time, Rei couldn't avoid meeting the stag's eyes. "You are not so different."_

_Rei stared at the stag with wide eyes, a sinking feeling settling into him. "Black Star passed the test."_

_The stag bent its forelegs, lowering its head slightly. A nod, though it looked odd coming from its body. "Demonstrably."_

" _You can't possibly compare me to him," Rei said, feeling the beginning of panic._

" _I do not," the stag said. "I compare you only to you."_

" _What do I have to do?" Rei asked, hearing and hating the quaver in his voice._

_The stag inclined its head back towards the soul in front of him, watching the way it shrank from his gaze. "Decide."_

" _Decide what?"_

" _Decide. Are you a warrior, or are you a demon? But that is a topic for another day, little ghost…" The stag bowed its head, taking a careful step back. "For now, you must awaken…"_

_Shadows started to swirl around the edges of Rei's vision, his soul starting to glow as the dreamscape crumbled. He felt something surge inside of him, as if he were waking up. The stag's eyes burned in the growing darkness, like a pair of lamps hanging in the air. A sense of wrongness permeated his very being, some instinct that cut through the peace of his dream and forced him awake. As he slipped from sleep into waking, the stag's voice cut through the air, one last parting remark._

" _It's time for you to decide what you would live for..."_

_The world faded away._

"… _and what you would die for."_

The scream woke him, shattering the remnants of his dream and sweeping them aside. Rei rolled out of bed, tangling his feet in the blankets and nearly crashing to the ground in his haste. He managed to twist into a proper fall, minimizing the sound of his landing. The impact shook off the last remaining vestiges of sleep, and he kicked the blankets off of his legs, his eyes widening in alarm and his heart pounding.

The room was momentarily unfamiliar to him, used as he was to his room in his DWMA apartment, but the memories of last night quickly made their way back to him. His eyes darted to the left, where the wall that separated his room from his sisters' was. The scream had come from there.

Rei didn't hesitate, running for the door. He paused only to activate his Soul Perception, throwing it out like a net around him and letting the darkened world assume some sense of clarity. The twins' souls were in their room, and they were alone.

No, Rei thought, they weren't. He couldn't sense another soul in them, but there was something else, an emptiness that seemed too strong, like a patch of shadow darker than it had any reason to be. It was an emptiness that he had noticed before, once, when he and Ayame had walked into an empty bar looking for Morgan.

He threw open the twins' door.

"Annie!" he shouted. "Cori!"

The man from the bar stood in the twins' room, wreathed in shadow. The window was open in front of him, darkness pooling into the room from it like mists and making the room look like something out of a nightmare. In one of his arms, he held Annie, who slumped forward unconscious, arms and legs dangling limply. In the other arm, he held a struggling Cori to himself.

"Rei!" Cori screamed, kicking and thrashing as she tried to get away. The man's grip merely tightened around her middle, holding her close.

Rei's eyes narrowed in anger, and he sank down into a crouch, his hand slipping away from the doorknob. "Let them go," he said.

The man turned towards him, fixing him with eyes that seemed to shine even in the room's shadows. His eyes swept over Rei, taking in his stance and demeanor, before finally settling on Rei's eyes, meeting his gaze.

"I have no wish to kill you, boy," the man said. "Stand down. This isn't a fight you can win."

Rei grit his teeth, one of his hands clenching into a fist. "Let. Them. _Go_."

The man frowned at him, fixing him with a baleful stare. His posture never changed, but he let out a sigh.

"Come then," he said.

Rei stretched out his hand towards his sister. "Cori!"

Cori nodded sharply, transforming in a flash of light. That flash coursed into Rei's hand, forming a gleaming black scythe, one that looked as though it was made of liquid metal. It was identical to Annie's scythe form, separated only by the color of the sinuous stripe that made its way down the side of the blade. Blue, where Annie's was red. He gripped the handle tightly with both hands, Cori's eyes narrowing in her soul space as Rei charged forward, letting out a shout.

The man snorted softly, a sharp exhale, as if he had been expecting this but still found it ridiculous. He lowered Annie to the ground, almost gently, and extended his left hand. Magic traced itself into the air at his fingertips, forming a glowing shield. Rei's slash struck that shield, and Cori let out a small gasp of pain as sparks started flying, striking the scythe's flat. She crouched down in the void of her soul space, pulling her hand to herself, and Rei pulled back quickly, leaping back and spinning the scythe in one hand.

"Cori?" Rei asked, alarmed.

" _I'm fine!"_ Cori said, shaking her hand out. _"It just burned a little. Don't worry!"_

Rei scowled, because how could he _not_ worry, but Cori was right. There were more important things. He darted towards the man, feinting high, then ducked beneath the shield that the man created, dropping into a crouch. Rei shifted Cori's weight to his left hand, bracing his free hand on the floor and sweeping at the man's ankles with the scythe blade. As the man leaped back, dancing nimbly out of the way of the scythe, Rei pushed himself forward using the hand on the floor, launching himself towards Annie.

Magic crackled in the air as he stretched his hand out towards her, a dome of energy appearing in the air above Annie and stopping him in his tracks. Heat coursed up his hand, and Rei let out a shout of pain, struggling to force his way through it. The shield fought him every inch of the way, but his hand stretched forward towards his sister, his teeth clenched even as traces of magic whipped at him, sparks striking his cheek and face, burning him.

"Cori!" Rei said, yelling the word into the air.

" _Right!"_ said Cori, clasping her hands close together over her chest. She closed her eyes, her brows knit together as if she were struggling. Light flared up around her and then faded out of existence, flickering twice like an old lightbulb before a slow, steady stream started to rise up around her. The scythe in his hands began to glow with a white light, lending him strength, parting the magic. His hand slipped further through the shield, an inch from Annie's arm.

"Enough of this," said the man, raising his hand towards them.

Tendrils of shadow reached out of the darkness like strips of cloth, runes engraved in violet light along their length. They wrapped around Rei and his outstretched arm, slipping around the length of Cori's scythe form and tightening. In his hand, Cori let out a scream, her concentration and her grip on the Anti-Magic Wavelength breaking. Rei fought to hold onto her as the tendrils tried to pry her from his grasp, but one of the tendrils wrapped around his wrist and twisted, forcing him to loosen his grip.

There was a crack of magic as the man drew the scythe towards his left hand, and Cori let out one final scream, her scythe form fading. She appeared in the crook of the man's arm, hanging limp like Annie, the faint traces of smoke rising from her skin. The man stared at her as Rei struggled against his bonds, a faint look of annoyance on his face.

"A weapon with an Anti-Magic Wavelength," he said, almost to himself. "A nuisance, but I suppose that's why we need her…"

"Put her down, you bastard!" Rei yelled, thrashing in the net of tendrils that held him in place. "Put her down or I'll kill you!"

The man drew his eyes up towards Rei, frowning at him as if he had only just remembered that he was there. "You," he said, "are in no position to be making threats."

Before Rei could reply, the tendrils lurched forward, slamming him into one of the bedroom walls. Rei let out a choked cry as the impact struck him, reverberating throughout his body. The world went dark for a second as the tendrils released him, letting him slump to the floor.

From the doorway to the twin's room, someone let out a scream of fury, launching themselves at the man. Rei grit his teeth against the pain, rolling over and looking up. Ayame was running towards the intruder at high speed, both of her hands transformed into gleaming blades.

The man turned towards her, his brow furrowing in annoyance and anger, and the shadow tendrils he had been manipulating before converged on her position. Ayame leaped to the side before the tendrils could catch her, slashing at his chest. Magic crackled over his skin like a sheet of armor, and Ayame's blade skittered off of the shield surrounding him, going wide. Her momentum carried her forward, but she quickly shifted it into a spin, lashing out at him with her other blade.

This one slammed into his side, catching on the shield as well, but Ayame planted her feet squarely on the ground and continued to turn, letting out a yell of effort. The sorcerer's eyes widened slightly as the force behind the blow picked him up off his feet, sending him into the nearest wall. He slammed into it, wood and plaster cracking.

Ayame was at Rei's side at an instant, human hands on his shoulders as she tried to draw him up. Rei looked up at her, eyes wide, shaking his head frantically.

"No," he said. "Get the twins—!"

Before he could finish his sentence, there was movement in the shadows. The sorcerer got to his feet, brushing dust and plaster off of himself. He frowned at Ayame as she stood protectively over Rei, raising an eyebrow at her as if seeing her for the first time.

"You have your father's brute strength, girl, but if you honestly think that that will be enough…"

He trailed off, his eyes sliding from her to Rei. Rei had taken advantage of the man's distraction to start pushing himself to his feet, his eyes fixed on the man in front of him. They were narrowed in anger.

"Ayame," Rei said, his voice soft.

She didn't look at him, but transformed in an instant, becoming the form that Rei most favored, her kusarigama form. His hands closed around her scythe hilts as he looked up at the man, the chain settling around him. The man frowned at him, meeting his eyes.

"This is a waste of time," he said, "for both of us."

Rei ignored him, his blood pounding in his ears. He was hardly looking at the man. Instead he was looking at his sisters, at Annie slumped unconscious against the wall behind him, at Cori tucked under his arm. Anger coursed through him, and in the middle of it, he could still hear the stag's words.

" _It's time for you to decide what you would live for..."_

"… _and what you would die for."_

Rei charged towards the sorcerer with a shout.

* * *

"Dammit, Rei, pick up your phone," Vayne muttered under his breath, his cellphone pressed against his ear as he scanned the night sky of Death City. To his right, Clark was running back to him, having finished checking the park. To his left, he could see the thin outline of Cassie making her way back towards him as well, breathless.

The phone in his hand continued to ring, before the sound of the ring broke off, replaced by the now-familiar sound of Rei's voicemail prompt. _"Hey, you've reached Rei Evans. I can't pick up the phone—."_

Vayne scowled in disgust, ending the call.

"Any luck?" Clark asked, running up to him.

Vayne shook his head, staring at the phone in his hand. "The one time we need his Soul Perception, and he's asleep," he said, rolling his eyes. He turned towards Cassie as she reached them, her eyes wide in worry. "Any sign of her?"

Cassie shook her head, gasping for breath. She rested her hands on her knees, gulping down huge breaths of air before looking up at him. "No," she said. "She's not at the library or the tea shop."

"Or the park," Clark said. "I just checked."

"You don't think she's at the school, do you?" asked Vayne, his eyes moving past them and fixing on the lights of the DWMA's candles, hovering in the distance.

"Dressed like a _witch_?" Cassie hissed.

"Good point," said Vayne, nodding. He took a deep breath to keep the panic from taking root, looking at the world around him.

 _Dammit, Morgan…_ he thought, feeling desperate. _Where did you go?_

"I just had a thought," Clark said, looking up at the sky.

"Spill," said Vayne, turning towards him.

"Notice something weird about tonight?"

Vayne frowned, following his partner's gaze. Clark wasn't looking at the stars, like he had first thought. Instead, he was scanning the rooftops, his eyes tracing the edges of them, looking for something. At first, Vayne couldn't tell what he was looking for, and then he remembered. A chill ran through him, one of his hands clenching into a fist.

"No ravens," he said.

Clark nodded. "They've been here since we started at the DWMA," he said. "Where did they all go?"

Vayne felt something sink in his chest, a bad feeling that seemed shared by the people around him. The ravens hadn't been here before Morgan's arrival at the DWMA, which was why Vayne hadn't noticed their absence. He had lived in Death City since his childhood. _Not_ having the ravens didn't feel odd to him. He hadn't even thought to look for them.

"Morgan…" Cassie breathed.

Light shone, flickering at the edges of his vision. Vayne's eyes widened, and he turned towards it. It was a light so dark in color that he almost missed it, a deep violet that was almost camouflaged against the darkness of night.

It seemed like he wasn't the only one who had noticed it. Clark and Cassie both paused, turning their eyes around it. It was coming not from the school, but from a residential neighborhood within easy walking distance of the DWMA.

"Hey…" Clark said. "Doesn't Maka-sensei live over there somewhere?"

Maka-sensei. The Evans house.

Rei.

A chill coursed through him again, his eyes traveling from the light to the phone in his hand, already calling Rei again, already not getting an answer.

" _Hey, you've reached Rei Evans. I can't pick up the phone right now—."_

Vayne stuffed the phone into his pocket, taking off at a run.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hypnagogia, this chapter's title, refers to the state between wakefulness and sleep, when a person is neither fully asleep nor fully awake, and may have waking dreams.


	35. Threshold Pt. 2; Abnegation

**CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR**

**Threshold Pt. 2; Abnegation**

* * *

" _Look…over there. See that squire?"_

_Mordred frowned at his sister's hushed tone, closing the book he was reading carefully and tucking it into the inside pocket of his jacket. He looked over her shoulder, following her gaze towards the young man that she indicated, practicing sword drills by the lake. He looked back towards Morgana and saw that his sister was crouching behind one of the trees that concealed them, trying just a little too hard to not be seen._

_She watched the young man intently. Mordred frowned at him, trying to see what she found so fascinating, but couldn't immediately tell. Still, Morgana seemed to think that the man was important, so he humored her, subjecting him to further scrutiny before looking back at her. "What about him?" he asked._

" _I was talking to Aunt Macha," Morgana said, her eyes still on the boy as he moved through his sword strikes. Her eyes followed the sword, a hint of wistfulness in her tone, tempered by the slightest amount of skepticism. "She says that man is our brother. That someday, he's going to be a king…"_

* * *

The combatants came together and separated, blades clashing against magic and sending Rei flying back. He landed neatly on the ground, the hilts of Ayame's kusarigama form in his hands. He could feel the tremor of Ayame's soul wavelength beneath his fingertips, a humming vibration deep within the steel. It made the blades feel alive, reminded him of Ayame's will and focus, perfectly synchronized with his own.

His opponent glowered at him from behind a dome of magic, turning around and slowly lowering Cori to the ground so that she slumped against her sister, eyes closed. Rei's eyes narrowed dangerously, and he charged at the sorcerer again.

Magic flared up to block him, runes inscribing themselves into the air in violet light as Rei slashed at the sorcerer with the scythe in his left hand. The scythe blade struck the runes, sending sparks flying, but where Cori had faltered and pulled back, Ayame simply sank deeper into a crouch, her eyes narrowing. The tip of the scythe found purchase in the magic, quivering as Rei threw his weight behind it, but rather than try to force his way through, he threw his weight into it, using it to slingshot himself around the shield and launching himself at the sorcerer from the side.

He shifted his grip on the scythe in his right hand, flipping it over in his hand so that the edge of the blade was pointed towards his opponent, and swept it through in a wide slash at the sorcerer's torso. Magic crackled as the shield around the sorcerer reasserted itself, blocking the blow, but Rei didn't give his opponent time to think, quickly bringing the scythe in his left hand back around and slashing at the sorcerer's neck. The spell crackled to life, blocking the cutting edge of the scythe, but the blow still translated into kinetic energy, forcing the other man's head back. Rei took the opportunity to launch himself into the air, the chain flaring up around him. He looped it around the sorcerer's neck and pulled on the scythes as he landed, tugging the man forward and slamming him into the nearest bed.

Wood splintered as the sorcerer crashed into it, dust and splinters flying into the air. On a human opponent, the gambit would have broken their neck, but the sorcerer merely drew himself to his feet, his eyes narrowed in annoyance. The slender fingers of one hand curled around the chain wrapped around his neck, and something sharp and painful crawled its way up the chain, magic crackling around the weapon. Ayame let out a guttural cry and Rei jerked away, choking back a scream. He moved his hand quickly across one of the scythe hilts, the spell vanishing as Ayame transformed in a flash of light, becoming a ninjato.

Rei brandished the short blade in front of him as he edged along the back wall of the room, watching the sorcerer warily. The man's eyes were fixed on Rei, one of his hands still raised to his neck. He rubbed at the skin there, his expression one that almost seemed like disappointment.

"Are you quite finished?" he asked, fixing Rei with a look that made his skin crawl. He bit back the fear that threatened to overwhelm him in that instant, his eyes moving past the sorcerer to land on Annie and Cori. The sight of them didn't destroy the fear, but it made it bearable for a moment.

Rei's eyes narrowed, looking back at the man. "That depends," he said. "Are you going to give my sisters back?"

The sorcerer sighed. "You have no idea how much I tire of heroics," he said. "Rei Evans, a chance encounter with Micah Cole almost killed you." He fixed his eyes on Rei, and the veil around his soul parted, revealing that same terrible power and light that Rei had glimpsed during the attack on Death City. "Do you want to know where Micah got his power?"

A shiver coursed through him in spite of himself, his grip faltering on Ayame's hilt. Ayame turned back to him from within her soul space, her eyes wide with warning.

" _Rei!"_ she said.

"Yeah," said Rei, gritting his teeth. "I know." To the sorcerer, he said, "My sisters don't have anything to do with this. Leave them alone."

"Oh?" the sorcerer asked, brows arching. "Your sisters have everything to do with this, Rei Evans. It is you who are the interloper. Step back, and I might be persuaded to let you live."

Instead of responding, Rei grit his teeth, gathering up his courage and settling into a stance. The sorcerer scowled at him, his eyes narrowing as he took in Rei's posture.

"So be it," he said, the words sounding like judgment, like the falling of a gavel or a guillotine. "Don't say you weren't warned."

Circles of magic appeared in the air around him, rings of glowing runes with shadows rippling at their centers. Out of the shadows, like figures rising up out of the water, rose several blades, all made up of violet light. They hovered in the air around the sorcerer, massive swords nearly as tall as Rei himself. As one, they rotated, angling towards him.

Rei tightened his grip on Ayame's hilt as the blades surged forward, shooting towards him at once.

* * *

The blades converged on the boy's position, slamming into the ground and releasing a flash of light so bright that it was almost blinding. The force behind the impact traveled through the floor and ceiling, rattling the house. Mordred stood still and waited for the light to fade, still feeling magic crackle through the air.

There. It was done. As much as he regretted the waste, the boy had brought it all on himself.

He turned away, about to leave, when movement drew his eye back towards the still fading flashes of light, his eyes widening slightly. The light cleared entirely to reveal Rei Evans suspended from the ceiling, the tines of the Cloak of Shadows holding him taut against the wall. He was bleeding from a small cut on his forehead, blood pouring over his right eye. A second cut lanced through his left forearm, but other than that, he appeared unharmed.

The tines of the Cloak slammed into the wall just past Mordred, and Rei launched himself at the sorcerer with a battle cry, the Cloak shifting into a black-hilted katana as Rei gathered up enough momentum. The boy angled the sword at his side as he rushed past him, and Mordred quickly twisted to the side in alarm, holding his hand up. A shield of magic appeared in the air between him and the boy, turning the sword aside as the boy lurched past him.

At the instant that the sword connected with the shield, there was a flash of light, and the very human form of Ayame Star appeared in the air just over Rei's head, her feet moving in quick succession as she kicked twice at his head, one after the other. Mordred raised his arm to block the blow, but before he could retaliate, Rei was already moving. He had leaped back during the distraction, and now stretched out a hand towards his partner. Ayame transformed without a word being exchanged between them, forming a ninjato again, a short blade that Rei quickly caught by the hilt and tossed back towards him, the blade pointed straight at his heart.

The boy's aim was true, but Mordred called up another shield before the short blade could reach him, a circle of magic appearing in the air just over his chest. It caught the blade, electricity crackling as Ayame Star tried to force her way through the shield, but the shield held fast. It was in that moment, the ninjato hovering in the air between Rei and Mordred, aimed at Mordred's chest and pushing against his shield under its own power, that Rei's soul flared up, rising in time with Ayame's. The two of them screamed in unison, an iridescent light consuming the blade.

" _Soul Resonance!"_

The ninjato glowed a bright light, pulsing along its length with glowing iridescence. As Mordred watched, the light seemed to grow, the shape of the dagger extending as air pulsed around it, driven back by the force of the dagger's thrust. The blade lengthened, becoming a narrow cylinder that pulsed with its own light, still caught in the grip of Mordred's spell.

Becoming a missile.

" _Jeweled Spear!"_

The missile surged forward with an unprecedented amount of force, shattering the shield spell and slamming into Mordred's chest. The world seemed to pause as the blow impacted, holding its breath for an instant before that breath was released, slamming Mordred back into the mirror that stood on the wall behind him.

The mirror behind him shattered as the missile plowed through, the wall crumbling beneath him as he was thrown into it.

* * *

Rei slumped forward as the energy from the blast died down, lungs heaving as he drew in several ragged breaths. The attack had thrown the sorcerer through the wall and into the hallway outside, but he'd put entirely too much power behind the blow. He felt wrung out, like his soul had been put through a press and strung up to dry, but unless he had seriously misjudged his opponent, the battle wasn't over yet. He clenched his fists, forcing himself to stand up as a ribbon of light shot back out of the hole the attack had formed, rushing towards him.

He caught the light neatly in one hand and it transformed back into the ninjato, a faint stream of smoke rising from the blade. Inside her soul space, Ayame was breathing hard as well, wiping at her mouth with the back of her fist.

" _Did we get him?"_ she asked.

In answer, Rei's eyes simply narrowed, and he looked through the hole in the wall at the sorcerer. From beyond the dust, he saw the man get to his feet, shadows surging and spiraling around him. He held up one of his hands, wiping at his face with the other, and the shadows elongated into sharp points, rushing through the gap towards Rei. He drew in a sharp breath and sank down, gathering up his strength.

The shadows shot towards him as he stood there, stunned, their points piercing through him. Tendrils shot straight through his chest, face, leg as he gasped, frozen in place.

The shadow double shattered in a flash of light.

Rei landed crouched on the ground behind the sorcerer, his back towards his opponent's. Light streamed into his hand, forming the ninjato again. His grip tightened on the blade's hilt and he slammed it upwards and back, the tip of the blade angled perfectly towards the back of the sorcerer's neck.

Magic stopped the ninjato, the tip of the blade freezing in the air as a circle of runes blinked into existence, hovering a few inches off the sorcerer's skin. Rei put his weight behind the blow, letting out a little shout of effort, and the tip of the knife quivered.

The sorcerer looked back over his shoulder at him, apparently unconcerned by the knife that hovered just inches from the back of his neck.

"You have good instincts," he said, brows arching. "Had I been human, that would have killed me. But that's what you are, isn't it, Rei Evans? A killer?"

In the darkness, Rei's eyes glowed like red points. The sorcerer reached back, sweeping his hand almost lazily through the air. Force slammed into Rei from the side, throwing him into the hallway wall hard enough that Rei felt the house shudder. The air exploded out of him at the impact. He quickly pushed himself off the wall and leaped back, still gasping for breath, as shadow coursed through, striking the place where he had been lying just a moment ago.

"I'm not—," he said, his eyes drifting towards the sorcerer. "I'm not like you."

"Aren't you?" the sorcerer asked, holding his hand out and turning aside Rei's next strike with ease. In the instant that Rei lunged towards him, their eyes met, the two them frozen over the junction of Rei's blade and the sorcerer's magic. "How many people have you personally killed? Considering your parents, it must be nearly a hundred by now. A hundred souls…"

"A hundred and one," Rei said, leaping back. "But they weren't innocent. They were souls on Shinigami's List, like yours." He shifted his grip, and there was a flash as the ninjato lengthened, becoming Ayame's katana form. "I'm not like you."

"Shinigami's List," the sorcerer said, with a smirk. "Of course. Shinigami knows all, after all."

He stepped back, his hand glowing with violet light as he turned away Rei's blows one after another, not advancing, merely deflecting them and turning them aside. Sparks flew as the sword struck magic, and Rei kept up the assault, slashing and striking, trying to find a weak point. The sorcerer moved backwards down the hallway, his movements slow and measured as he continued to speak.

"Your DWMA is nothing more than a training ground, your ideals less than nothing. At the end of the day, you're nothing more than an assassin, aren't you?"

Rei tightened his grip on Ayame's hilt as he stepped forward, throwing more force and power behind his cuts. The sorcerer didn't seem to care, continuing to step back with maddening ease. Behind him, visible through the window at the end of the hallway, was the moon, looking down at Rei with a leering expression behind its mask of black blood. It's eyes were wide, gleeful, accusing.

The night of the anniversary ball flashed into his mind. Ophelia in her white dress, dancing with Clark, the five of them sitting out in the corridor in the aftermath of the party, Ayame in gold, the brightness leaving her eyes.

He grit his teeth, punctuating his next slash with a cry.

"I'm not like you!" he said. "I don't kidnap children! I don't hurt people! You're just a pawn of the Morrigan. I'm _not_ like you!"

The sorcerer's eyes narrowed slightly, disdain creeping into his expression. "She's my mother," he said. "I wonder who pulls your strings, Rei Evans. Can you tell me with honesty that you would still be here, if your parents had been anyone different?"

Rei's strike faltered mid-swing, his grip loosening slightly on Ayame's hilt. The sword tip wavered, and Ayame looked back at him from within her soul space, her eyes wide with concern. He saw her form reflected on the flat of her blade.

"I'm not—," Rei said. "I would—I wouldn't—."

"You see," the sorcerer asked, his lip curling into a sneer. "You're here because you're a _legacy._ The child of a Death Scythe and the meister talented enough to turn him into one. Doesn't that sound familiar, boy? History repeats itself again, in _you_."

He surged forward suddenly, so suddenly that Rei didn't have time to react, didn't have time to do much but raise his sword in a guard. The sorcerer didn't pay the blade any heed, however, curling his hand around the blade's flat and looking over it at Rei. Rei shrank back from that gaze, his eyes wide as he tried to take a step back, tried to look away. He shook his head, as if by doing so, he could make the words lose all their meaning.

"You were bred to kill," the sorcerer said, shoving Rei away from him suddenly with enough force to send him flying back. He landed in a crouch, his heart pounding, Ayame's hilt cold in his hand. "You _both_ were. And so was I. So even, was your precious Shinigami."

Shadows rushed past the sorcerer, forming tendrils that wrapped tightly around Rei, lifting him off the ground before he could fight against them. He struggled, but there was nothing he could do. They closed in tight around him, crushing him, sapping the strength from his limbs. His back arched as he tried to get away, his neck craning as he struggled to break free. In his mind, he was in his dream again, the nightmare he had had after facing this man for the first time. He was sinking into blackness and hands were reaching for him, grasping.

"We are," the sorcerer said, his voice sounding like it was far away, "all of us, slaves of our history."

Magic shot through the tendrils, bringing with it a sudden sense of agony, of pain. Rei heard a voice scream and realized dimly that it was coming from his own throat, that Ayame was screaming with him. The magic coursed through him like lightning, like fire, and it was all he could do to scream, to wait out its terrible force.

When it was gone, the tendrils tossed him aside, like trash. He landed in a heap in the center of the twins' room, near the ruin where Annie's bed had once been, his vision fading. His grip loosened on Ayame's hilt, the sword landing a few feet from his hand, its blade dull in his vision. He reached for it, but his hand wouldn't move, his fingers twitching uselessly.

In the shadows of his vision, he saw the sorcerer move towards him, his feet appearing in the gap that led into the hallway. Rei sucked in a gasping breath, fighting to lift his head. He managed to raise his gaze towards the sorcerer's face, managed to watch as the sorcerer took slow, unhurried steps towards him. His expression, as he looked down at Rei's, was impassive, unmoved. In the darkness of the room, he may as well have been carved from stone.

Only his eyes seemed to shine, and whatever light had been in them was slowly dying out.

"I am Mordred, killer of heroes. The only differences between you and I are the gods we choose to serve, and the experience of centuries. The latter has been your undoing. This farce ends now. Die."

Circles of light appeared in the air around him, glowing brightly. Rei could do nothing but watch as those same blades of light protruded out from the circles, shining in the dim light of the room. Mordred continued to watch him, his eyes sharp, without mercy.

The swords shot out of their circles, converging on his position.

A soul unfurled in the darkness, like a beacon of light.

A figure soared through the air over his head, black feathers littering the ground at her feet as she landed in front of him. She stretched her arms out wide, identical circles of magic peppering the air around her. Each circle caught a sword, the sword points slamming into the circles' centers. The girl in front of him bent her knees against the force of the barrage, her teeth clenched, but she remained unmoving, backlit by the light of the swords. Rei caught a glimpse of dark hair, pale skin, a pointed hat, a purple blouse. From behind her, he could see her soul. It had the purple tinge of a Witch's Soul, the veil pulled back from it for the first time, but it was still wholly hers, with a quality uniquely her own.

The light faded, the magic of the spells cancelling out. In front of him, Mordred and Morgan faced each other.

Mordred frowned at her, the light of magic fading behind him. He looked from her to Rei and back at her again, his eyes narrowing meaningfully. Morgan didn't move, her back straight and her head tilted defiantly. She kept her arms spread, hands on either side of her.

"Tell me you aren't this foolish, niece," Mordred said, his eyes on hers.

Morgan said nothing for several long moments. Rei stared at her, wanting to talk, wanting to say something, but finding that the words stuck in his throat. He couldn't do much more but lie there, his eyes on her as she stared down her uncle.

At length, her shoulders slumped as if in defeat, her hands lowering to her side. Her eyes remained on Mordred; she didn't look away.

"I'll go with you."

The words were spoken softly, but in the stillness of the room, she may as well have shouted them. Rei looked up at her, his breath catching in his throat.

"Morgan…" he began, his voice soft.

She went on as if she hadn't heard. "If you let Rei live," she said. "I'll go with you."

Cold seized his heart. His eyes widened, and he struggled to push himself up, but his arms didn't have the strength. Mordred watched her coolly, his eyes once again drifting towards Rei before meeting hers.

"You act as if you have a choice," he finally said.

"I do have a choice," Morgan said. "I can choose to fight you."

"You'll die." The words weren't harshly spoken, a simple statement of fact.

"I'm aware of that," Morgan said, and there was no trace of fear in her voice either. She straightened up, drawing herself up to her full height. "You'll have to kill me. It's unavoidable, but I know you don't want to do that, Uncle."

"You're certain of that?" Mordred asked.

"Quite certain."

Mordred studied her, as if gauging her mettle, his eyes sweeping over her posture, over the uncurled bent of her spine. His frown deepened and he glanced away. "Foolish girl," he said. "Let's be off, then. Leave the boy."

He started walking, sweeping past Rei without a word as he walked over to the window. Morgan waited until Mordred had vanished from Rei's vision before she turned, pivoting smoothly and making to follow him. Rei surged forward, making a last gasp grab for her ankle. His fingers closed around it as she walked, and he tightened his grip, the force behind the motion enough to allow him to spin towards the window. Pain lanced through his body at the movement, his vision fading at the edges, but he held on to consciousness, his gaze fixed on the scene in front of him. The lamplight from the street outside shone down on him as Mordred picked his sisters up, holding Annie under one arm and Cori under the other. The light glanced off of their silver hair, off of the light in Mordred's eyes.

Morgan kicked her foot out of Rei's grasp, looking away.

"Morgan," Rei said, tears blurring his vision. "Don't do this…"

"I'm sorry," Morgan said, not looking at him. "It's for the best. Please, Rei, _please_ don't follow me."

"Morgan," Mordred said from by the window, his tone curt. "It's time to go."

Morgan nodded, turning away. She took a step towards the window, a step away from Rei.

There was a flash of light, followed by a battle cry. The sword in front of him shattered, Ayame taking form again. She was bruised and battered, her hair falling wildly over her face, but her eyes shone with rage as she charged at Mordred, one of her hands transforming into a sword blade.

He let Cori slide to the ground, sweeping his arm back without even looking at her. The blow, crackling with magic, caught Ayame in the side of the face and sent her flying, crashing against one of the bedroom walls. The force of the throw made the wood buckle, leaving her hanging in the impression that the impact had created. She twitched, gritting her teeth, her fists clenching at her side. Mordred raised his hand towards her, his expression impassive, and magic began to fill the air, crackling between him and Ayame.

Delicate fingers curled around Mordred's wrist, lowering his hand back to his side. The magic dissipated, vanishing into the air like mists.

"Leave her, Uncle," Morgan said, her tone flat. "It isn't worth it."

"The girl wasn't part of the bargain," Mordred mused, shaking out his hand. He reached down, picking Cori up by the waist again.

Morgan sighed, holding her hand out towards Ayame. Magic flared into it, a sudden outpouring of power. Rei stretched out a hand to stop her, but he couldn't move. The magic soared towards Ayame, a circle writing itself into the air above her. Violet light suffused her, seeping into her skin, and she tensed, as if in pain. Then, all the tension left her at once and she went limp, collapsing onto the ground in a heap.

"There," Morgan said. "She won't bother you anymore."

Rei struggled to push himself up to his feet. "Ayame!" he said, panic overwhelming the pain. He stretched his arm out towards her, his fingers shaking, eyes wide in terror. " _Ayame!_ "

"Don't worry," Morgan said, her hand already extended towards him. "She's only asleep. As you will be." The spell left her hand, light and warmth encasing him, and she turned away. Darkness filled his vision, the world fading into a blur, but he thought he saw her eyes glisten as she faced the window, thought he heard her voice quaver when she spoke, her words sounding like they were coming from very far away. "I truly am…very sorry…"

His muscles went limp, and he slumped back against the floor, one hand still outstretched towards Ayame. "Ayame!" he said, fighting to keep his hold on his consciousness even as his words started to slur. "Ayame…Annie, Cori…Morgan…"

The darkness swept up around him, encasing him. Rei felt his eyes start to drift close, felt his breathing evening out against his will. Ahead of him, Mordred was already crouched in the windowsill, ready to leap, and Morgan was standing beside him. He saw her face as his head fell forward, then her torso, her skirt.

His last view was of her shoes, of the broken glass and feathers that littered the floor of the twins' room, before the darkness took him entirely.

"…Ayame…"

* * *

Vayne ran until he was out of breath, quickly closing the distance towards Rei's house. Behind him, he could hear Clark and Cassie running as well, their breaths coming close together as they followed him. His heart was racing, his mind already fixed on what he would find when he arrived. He still held his phone clenched in one hand, the screen still flicking on occasionally to reveal his last failed call with Rei, the voicemail having shut down minutes ago.

He didn't stop running until the Evans house was in view, and then he skidded to a stop, his eyes fixed on the scene unfolding in front of him.

One of the upstairs windows, the one that Vayne knew led to the twins' room, had been blasted open, and a figure was climbing out of it now, a silver-haired twin under each of his arms. Tall and slender, dark-haired, the shadows wrapped around him like a cloak as he stepped out, his feet seeming to find purchase on empty air. Beside him, climbing daintily over the windowsill, was—

"Morgan—," Vayne gasped, his eyes widening.

Morgan didn't look at him. She kept one hand on the man's cloak, the two of them rising higher up into the sky. He didn't hesitate, didn't look behind him to see if Clark and Cassie were following.

Vayne took off at a run.

Behind him, he heard Clark shout his name, but Vayne ignored him, launching himself at the nearest wall at speed. His arm transformed in a flash of light, becoming a pendulum blade, and he swung the blade at the wall, the blade embedding itself into the stone. He used the momentum of his leap to fling him forward and up, so that he flipped over in the air and landed on top of the row of rooftops across from Rei's house.

Morgan was several feet away, and getting farther every second. He ran towards her, heedless of the burning in his lungs, the pain in his arms and legs from the force of his landing.

"Morgan!" he shouted, his arm outstretched towards her. " _Morgan_!"

The two of them paused, a rooftop away. Morgan looked surprised as she looked back, her dark eyes widening. The pale man narrowed his eyes at him, his expression one of impatience.

"Friend of yours?" he asked Morgan.

Morgan raised her eyes to meet his. Vayne slowed to a stop then, breathing heavily. There were still ten or fifteen feet between them, the gap between one house and another, but he could already see in Morgan's eyes the beginnings of pain. She turned towards the man beside her, placing a hand on his arm, a placating gesture.

"Give me a minute," she said, her voice soft. "Please."

"There isn't time…" the man began.

" _Please_ , Uncle. Please…"

The man, Morgan's uncle, frowned at her, but nodded, looking away. "Don't take too long," he warned her, already beginning to set up some sort of spell.

"I won't," Morgan said, approaching the gap. She closed her eyes, drawing in a breath, and power crackled around her, the wind seeming to pick up. As Vayne watched, her feet lifted off the ground lightly, and she floated over the gap between the rooftops towards him, moving as slowly as if she were moving through a dream.

He reached out his hands to catch her without thinking, placing them lightly on her arms to steady her and maneuvering her onto the rooftop beside him. Her eyes widened at the touch, her face flushing slightly, but the moment she landed on the ground she stepped back and pulled away, dropping her gaze. Vayne stared at her, uncomprehending, as she looked away from him, both of her hands wrapped tight around a lock of her hair. He couldn't remember the last time he saw her look so conflicted, so pained.

"Morgan…" he breathed, and it was the only word he could manage, the only word that seemed able to squeeze through the knot in his throat. " _Why?"_

Morgan sucked in a breath sharply, pursing her lips tight together as if attempting to hold back a sob. In the lamplight of the city, her eyes gleamed. He reached out a hand for her, but the hand faltered halfway to its destination, falling back to his side.

"I have to go…" Morgan said, after a long moment of silence. "I can't stay here anymore."

"Why not?" Vayne asked, looking over her shoulder at the man, who was watching them impatiently. "Is he threatening you? We can protect you."

Morgan shook her head, the pain in her expression growing. "You can't, Vayne," she said. "Not from this. You can't even protect yourselves."

"What are you talking about?" Vayne asked, and he did reach for her then, his hands closing around her arms. She shook her head, but didn't pull away, her face twisted with the effort of holding back tears. "Of course we can protect you, Morgan. Trust us."

"Not from this," Morgan said, whispering the words like a mantra. "Not from this…"

She reached out suddenly, the fingers of one hand brushing against his face before he had time to reply. The touch was light, barely there, and Vayne froze at the feel of it, his gaze locked on her. Her eyes were wide, filled with tears.

"Promise me…" Morgan said, lowering her voice. "Promise me you'll leave. Promise me _all_ of you will leave."

"What do you mean?" Vayne asked numbly, his eyes still fixed on hers.

Morgan lowered her gaze again. Her hand slipped from the side of his face, fingertips trailing away until they were gone. Her hands were so cold.

"Thirty days," she said. "In thirty days, this whole city…everything…will be engulfed in darkness. You have to get away before that happens, Vayne. You can't fight it. _Trust_ me."

"Morgan." The man's voice, from across the gap, was impatient. Morgan looked up over her shoulder at him, twisting out of Vayne's grasp. She turned away from him, keeping her head down so that he couldn't see her face. Her shoulders were bowed forward, one hand closed tight over her chest.

"I have to go," she said, the words a whisper. " _Promise me."_

He reached for her again, but she stepped over the edge of the gap, the wind rising up to bear her across. Vayne ran to the edge of the rooftop, but she floated away, his hand uselessly stretched towards her, closed around empty air.

"Morgan!" he shouted, unable to help himself, unable to stop the desperation in his voice. "You'll come back, right? Promise me you'll come back!"

She looked over her shoulder at him then, her expression sad. Her mouth opened, speaking three syllables. Tears fell freely from her face, they were borne up by the wind, glistening droplets of lamplight in the space between them. The man caught her by her arm as she landed on the other side, shadows surrounding them both.

Vayne fell to his knees.

* * *

_This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing_

_To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;_

_This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining_

_On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,_

_But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,_

_She shall press, ah, nevermore!_

\- Edgar Allan Poe, "The Raven"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Abnegation, this chapter's title, refers to the act of renouncing or rejecting something. It can also refer to self-denial, or the act of turning one's back.
> 
> Jeweled Spear, the Soul Resonance technique associated with Ayame's ninjato form, is named after Amenonuhoko, or Heavenly Jeweled Spear, the mythological naginata used by Izanami and Izanagi to part the seas to create the first land in the Japanese creation story.
> 
> I don't own Edgar Allan Poe's "The Raven", but the work is in the public domain. Despite that, I'd still like to point out that all credit goes to the author.


	36. The Right Amount of Foolishness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really glad you guys liked the last chapter. We're getting to the point now where things that I've been planning and steadily building up to for months are finally happening, and as always, the fear is always there that the scenes themselves won't measure up to the way they looked in my head. It makes me really happy to hear that you guys are enjoying this story. Not much farther now!

**CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE**

**The Right Amount of Foolishness**

* * *

" _I truly am…very sorry…"_

The words echoed in his mind, the memory of her playing over and over again, of Morgan walking past him, heading to the window, of his sisters' faces disappearing from sight, of Ayame falling to the ground. Time became elastic, stretched between two points, a series of disjointed images and sounds that flitted through his memory. He heard murmurs above him, felt a touch on his back, voices speaking in increasing urgency as footsteps hammered the floorboards around him.

" _Your DWMA is nothing but a training ground, your ideals less than nothing…"_

Voices. Sounds. His mother's voice, her hand on his head, calling for him, telling him to wake up. His father's voice, the sound of somebody punching the wall.

" _You're nothing more than an assassin, aren't you?"_

Arms clasping him carefully, lifting him up. The sound of a siren. Cool metal at his back, the wind in his hair. Footsteps keeping pace with him as he moved faster and faster, colored lights blinking in the darkness behind his eyelids.

" _Decide what you would live for and what you would die for…"_

The smell of antiseptic, a low, measured voice. Hands prodding at him, the sound of a curtain being drawn. The sharp jab of a needle, pressing into his skin. Ice in his veins, a sharp pain, then darkness.

Then light.

Rei's eyes snapped open, his chest heaving as he gasped for breath. The ceiling above him came into focus all at once, the sudden influx of images so jarring that he squeezed his eyes shut for a second, disappearing back into the darkness he had come from as he tried to get his bearings. He was lying in a bed of crisp, white linen sheets, the sunlight filtering in through a window to his left. It was the bright light of day, and the tang of antiseptic hung in the air.

The dispensary.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he opened his eyes again, casting them around the room. Ayame lay in the bed next to his, still asleep, her chest rising and falling slowly with her breathing. The scene was familiar, reminding him of the day he had woken up in the dispensary after the tournament his first year, but the mood was all wrong. There were no cards or chocolates on the nightstand between their beds, no friends drifting in and out of the room to tell them how bravely they had fought or how awesome the battle had been. Instead, there was nothing but the sound of hurried footfalls coming from the corridor outside, the distant cadence of barked orders.

Slowly, he pushed himself up into a sitting position. A small boy was curled up on the bed next to his sister, his arm wrapped around her waist and his head pillowed on her chest. Like Ayame, he was also asleep. _Bright Star,_ Rei remembered, and the name brought back the remainder of his memories. He curled a hand over his chest, feeling his heart sink, failure stinging him more than any of his injuries.

Annie. Cori.

Morgan.

His eyes turned away from Ayame, landing on the armchair beside the window. His mother was curled up in it, her head pressed into her knees as if she had fallen asleep crying. Maka Albarn-Evans had never been a big person, but this was the first time that she had ever looked small to him, waifish almost, strands of her blond hair caught around her face.

The weight of his misery doubled, and he almost didn't speak. He managed, somehow, despite the knot in his throat.

"Mom…?"

She lifted her head suddenly, her eyes snapping open. Maka looked around the room sharply, as if awakening from a nightmare, before her eyes finally fixed on him.

"Rei!" She was on her feet in an instant, her hands taking hold of one of his. Her eyes were rimmed with red. Rei looked away at the touch, swallowing through the knot in his own throat. Tears stung at his eyes, and he squeezed them shut to ward them away.

"How are you feeling?" Maka asked, smoothing his hair away from his face. "Is there any pain?"

He wanted to laugh. He could feel the laugh bubble up inside of him, a mad, raving thing that wanted nothing more than to escape. He bit back on it for her sake, clenching his jaw tightly to stop it from breaking through. When he thought he was calm enough, he lifted his head, looking back at her.

He didn't want to know the answer to his question, but he had to know. "The twins…?"

The misery in Maka's eyes was answer enough. Rei sucked in a sharp breath, looking away again. The hand that she wasn't holding clenched tightly into a fist, his fingernails digging into his palm. "I'm sorry…" he said, squeezing his eyes shut. "I couldn't save them. I—."

Moisture trailed down the side of his cheek, a droplet landing on the back of his hand. He felt Maka's hand move to the side of his face, her thumb carefully brushing one of the tears away. The gesture only made the tears harder to hold back. But tears wouldn't help anyone now. He mastered them somehow, jerking back from her. Maka pulled her hands back as if she had been burned, and Rei felt another shard of guilt stab at his chest as he raised his hand to his eyes, wiping away the tears furiously. He sniffed, looking up at her.

"Morgan?" he asked.

Maka shook her head sadly, and that was all the answer he needed.

"She didn't want to go with him," he said. "She—."

_She saved my life._

The words died in his throat, and he looked away, shamed. Maka stepped back and away from the bed, smoothing out her skirt and blouse as if she were also trying to compose herself. "I can't decide what's going to happen to her," she said. "It'll come down to Kid, in the end…" But the way she said that sounded almost as though she wasn't entirely happy about it.

"So, what happens now?" Rei asked, his voice thick with misery.

Maka hesitated a moment before she answered, stepping away from him and folding her arms over herself, her eyes moving to the window, to the sky that stretched over their heads, across Death City. She drew in a breath and when she let it out, she seemed transformed, as though she had found a way to take her own pain and bury it deep down inside of herself, so that only the clear path of purpose remained.

"Now?" she asked. "Now we're going to find them, Rei, and we're going to bring them back. But you don't have to worry about that right now. Focus on getting better. You fought so well, and so hard…" A quaver in her voice at those words, swiftly mastered, but Rei heard the meaning in her voice without her having to say it, and it hit him with all the force of a battering ram.

_I almost lost all three of you…_

"I want to help," he said.

She shook her head sadly, a thin smile appearing on her face. "Later, maybe," she said. "For now, what you need to do is rest. I have a meeting today. We're going to discuss everything, decide what our next steps will be."

"Will you tell me what they are?" Rei said.

There it was again, that sad smile, those sad eyes directed at him. "If you want to hear it," Maka said. "But try not to worry about it just yet." She walked back over to him, looking into his eyes, and Rei heard her breath hitch again. This time, when she reached out to touch him, placing a hand on his shoulder, he didn't pull away.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice soft, but whether she was apologizing to Rei or to some others that he couldn't see, he didn't know. "I had a bad feeling about this mission from the start. If we had acted sooner…"

"It's not your fault," Rei said, because it was the only thing he could say. But he could tell from the pained look in her eye that she was going to blame herself for it anyway, just as he was going to blame himself for not being strong enough to stop the kidnapping, no matter what anyone else said. That in that regard, they were one and the same.

From the sad smile that she gave him as she stepped back, he could tell that she saw it too.

"I have to get to that meeting," she said, checking her watch. "Someone will be in to look after you in a few minutes. Are you going to be alright here?"

"I…" Rei hesitated, looking around the room. Through the second sight afforded by his Soul Perception, he could see two souls outside the door that led to the dispensary. Guards? "I'll be fine," he said, trying to will some confidence into his voice. "You'll tell them, won't you? About what I said about Morgan."

Maka nodded, her expression growing solemn. "I'll tell them," she said. "This might be hard for you to believe, Rei, but no one here wishes Morgan any harm. No matter what happens, just believe that."

Rei nodded. "I'll try," he promised.

She gave him one last long look before she turned, disappearing through the door.

* * *

Cori looked up as the door to the bedroom opened, her eyes hardening into a glare. A woman—the Morrigan—stepped daintily into the room, pausing only to sweep her eyes over it before they landed on Cori. Mordred filed into the room behind her, quietly shutting the door. She fought back a surge of anger, clenching one of her hands into a fist where it was hidden by the skirt of her dress, from her seat in the plush chair next to the room's large bed.

The Morrigan's eyes drifted towards her, red lips curving in a semblance of a smile. "I trust your accommodations are satisfactory, dear?" she asked.

Cori scowled. The room that Mordred had placed them in didn't look like a prison. It was a spacious bedroom, a child's room, filled with shelves stocked with books and a chest of toys at the foot of the bed. A wardrobe was stocked with several dresses and nightgowns their size, and a door in one corner of the room led to a bathroom that was twice the size of the one she used at home. A large window occupied one corner of the room, letting in air and light and offering a spectacular view of the landscape, miles below.

But the room locked from the outside, and the window didn't open more than a crack. It was a prison, and she hated it.

"I want to go home," she said, meeting the Morrigan's eyes.

"I'm _sure_ you do," said the Morrigan, stepping closer to her. "It must be so hard for you, Corpore. Bear with it for just a little while longer."

The crow witch bent down, so that she was almost at Cori's eye level—almost, but not quite. Cori didn't flinch from that gaze, keeping her head tilted up defiantly. She felt a hint of fear course through her but quickly squashed it back down, clenching her fists tight and keeping her voice to a whisper so as not to wake Annie, who had finally, _finally_ managed to fall asleep.

"I'm not afraid of you," she whispered, her voice soft.

The Morrigan's smile widened in delight, a gleam appearing in her eyes as she drew back. "Ah," she said, sounding amused. "The innocence of youth. But yes, you've always been the brave one, haven't you, Corpore? The fighter?" Her eyes drifted over to Annie for a moment, to the girl who was lying on her side on the bed, chest rising and falling slowly with sleep. They didn't remain long, but lingered there long enough for Cori to notice the significance. Slowly, the Morrigan's eyes drifted back towards her. "I wanted to talk to you, actually, because of that."

"I'm not going to do anything for you," Cori said, scowling.

"All I ask, dear, is that you _listen_ ," said the Morrigan, looking back to her. "I do hope you understand that remaining in this room is a privilege, not a right. It really makes no difference to me whether you remain here or in a cell in the dungeons, as long as you're contained. Your being here is contingent on your…good behavior, so I'm hoping, Corpore, that you'll remain on your _very best_ behavior for me."

"I'm not afraid of a cell," Cori said, the words coming out half as a growl.

" _You_ may not be," the Morrigan said. "But we both know that you're the strong one." She gave Annie another meaningful glance, then turned around, pausing only to flash Cori a smile. "Think on it. I have many important matters to attend to, and I hope I won't be troubled to come visit you again."

Cori said nothing, fists tightly clenched as she watched the Morrigan leave the room, watched Mordred open the door for her and close it behind her. Only when she was gone did she exhale, did she allow herself to sag back into her seat, letting out a long breath of air. She glanced at Annie, eyes wide, and felt the fear that she had been holding back for herself come to her twice as strongly now that she was considering her twin. She felt anger begin to mix with the fear—anger and helplessness and shame. She lifted her gaze, turning them towards Mordred.

"Are you happy now?" she asked, vehemence in her tone. "You have us here. Are you happy now?"

He didn't respond, meeting her gaze coolly before turning around and leaving the room. Cori waited until the door clicked behind him, waited until she heard the sound of the bolt falling back into place before she slumped forward, her hands coming up to grip the arms of the chair. Her shoulders started to shake, the color draining from her face.

She remained there for a while, trembling, gripping onto the chair tightly and feeling the constant sway of the flying castle as it picked its way through the breeze, before Annie let out a soft groan and Cori looked up.

"Cori…?" Annie asked, bleary green eyes blinking open and focusing on her.

"I'm here," Cori said, forcing all the tension out of her with a breath. She stood up and moved so that she was sitting on the bed, reaching for her twin's hand. Annie's skin was warm to the touch, and it took Cori a moment to realize that her own hands were just cold. "I'm here," she told Annie again, soothingly. "I'll protect you, Annie. I won't let anything happen to you."

Annie squeezed Cori's hand tightly before her grip relaxed, her eyes slowly starting to slide closed again.

"I'm here…" Cori whispered. "I'll protect you. Go back to sleep. I'm here…"

* * *

The woman lying on the bed had Clark's features, visible in the curve of her jaw, the gentle rise and fall of her nose, in the blond hair that fanned out around her head and her slender build. Looking down at her, Morgan wondered whether she would have suspected the relationship between them, had she not known what she had known.

_Hey, Clark. I found your mother. I know you probably hate me for leaving, but at least that's something…_

The words sounded ridiculous, even in the depths of her mind. She snorted softly in response to them, the fingers of one hand curling inward ever so gently. It joined the litany of apologies, platitudes, and absurd observations that had been running through her mind ever since she woke up this morning in her familiar tower room again.

_Hey, Rei. I'm sorry for using magic on you. I was trying to save your life. On the bright side, at least I know where your sisters are…_

_Hey, Ayame. I'm sorry about my uncle. He can be a little extreme. Never truly learned to control his temper. How's your jaw doing today?_

_Hey, Cassie. I'm sorry for leaving. I know you have abandonment issues. I really hope that you're coping well with my sudden departure. Please don't suck our flat into an alternate reality in your inevitable descent into utter despair. I was rather fond of the place._

_Hey, Vayne._

_Hey, Vayne…_

She squeezed her eyes shut, fingernails digging into her palm as she took a deep breath, trying to steady her emotions and keep her expression smooth. She had known, had _known_ when she left that her friends would resent her for it. That they would hate her for it. That the DWMA might even take action against her because of it.

It didn't matter, as long as they survived. If they lived long enough to confront Morgan about her sins, she would be happy.

She would be…

" _You'll come back, right? Promise me you'll come back!"_

Her shoulders slumped, her composure breaking for an instant. From his perch on her shoulder, Quoth turned his head, cawing softly into her ear. She exhaled, letting out a breath, and raised her hand, fingers gently scratching at the back of his head. The raven leaned into the touch, pressing his head against her fingers happily.

"We've gotten ourselves into a fine mess this time, haven't we?" she asked, keeping her voice low.

Quoth let out another caw, louder this time, and turned his head to nip at her fingers lightly, as if telling her that she had gotten into this mess all on her own.

The door opened behind her. Morgan tensed, looking over her shoulder, but it was only her uncle, slipping into the room like a shadow and closing the door. His eyes moved towards Morgan for a moment, then back to the woman lying on the bed, her brow furrowed from her dreams.

"She'll wake soon," Mordred said. "Likely."

"A sleeping spell?" Morgan asked, more to fill the silence than anything. She stepped back as her uncle approached the bed, widening the distance between them. Mordred didn't look at her, keeping his eyes on Elaine.

"Only the impetus for her slumber," said Mordred. "The spell wore off days ago, but it's clear that her mind still needs to recover."

"What's…wrong with her?" Morgan asked. "It's hard to believe that the woman Clark described would…" _Kill Ophelia. Decimate multiple DWMA bases. Sneak into buildings in the dead of night._ Mordred gave her a sharp glance and she quickly recognized her error, glancing away. She should have known better, should have been more careful. Her grandmother still did not know that she had ever been at the DWMA.

If she wasn't careful, her mouth was going to get her into a lot more trouble than she was already in.

Surprisingly, instead of reprimanding her, Mordred simply answered. "Her mind is gone, I suppose," he said, looking back at Elaine. "There's a shard of her that remains, but the power's almost consumed it by now. What's left may already be gone."

There was something that might almost have been pity in his eyes, his expression softening somewhat as he watched her. There were moments like this with him when the layers pulled back, offering a glimpse at something else beneath the surface, a heart that allowed for pity every once in a while, but also a maelstrom of guilt and pain. As always, when looking at him like this, a question leaped to the forefront of her mind, a question she had been wanting to ask since she was first cognizant that it was a question she _could_ ask.

_What really happened to my mother?_

As always, she knew better than to ask it. As always, she realized she didn't truly want to know.

But Mordred looked up at her, and the softness was gone from his expression. His eyes narrowed slightly as he looked over her posture. "Don't look so guilty," he suggested. "You look as if you've been caught doing something you shouldn't."

"Have I?" she asked in challenge, but she did relax her guard somewhat, letting her hand fall away from its protective grip on Quoth and forcing the tension out of her shoulders.

"No," said Mordred, looking back at Elaine. "You have the freedom of the castle. I trust you won't do anything foolish with it."

Foolish being trying to break Rei's sisters out of their prison. Foolish being trying to run away again. She had already run both scenarios through her mind and discarded them. At this critical time, she would never make it out of the castle. Her grandmother was too vigilant, too wary. She had her eyes on the twins constantly. There was no opening that Morgan could exploit, no lapse in her attention that would allow her to spirit the twins away in the night.

And despite everything that she had already done, despite all the wrongs that she had committed at the DWMA, Morgan knew one thing. Even if the opportunity presented itself, even if it was possible, she was not leaving this castle without the twins.

"Don't worry, Uncle," she said, looking away. "I know my bounds."

"I hope that that's true," said Mordred, frowning at her. "I won't be around to cover up your mistakes."

Something in the way he said that gave her pause, made her look up. "You're going back?" she asked.

"For a little while," Mordred said. "This…venture of Mother's has put a slight strain on our treasury. I should return in a week."

A week.

Fear coiled in her belly, the fear that she had been carrying around with her since childhood waking up again. A week alone with her grandmother, without Mordred to deflect the Morrigan's attention away from her. A week without a shield, after so long at the DWMA, with the taste of freedom still fresh in her mouth.

She was older now, she told herself. She wasn't a child. She didn't need Mordred to protect her anymore.

"Safe travels, then," she said, looking away.

Mordred nodded, and for a moment she thought he might say more, but he withdrew instead, the door opening and closing again as he left the room. Morgan waited until his footsteps had disappeared, until her heart had calmed somewhat and she had mastered the fear, her expression settling back into smoothness. Then, she carefully stepped around the bed, walking towards the window. She looked out at the endless horizon, at the world far below them, at the dome of the sky, and her hand reached up, scratching at Quoth's head again.

Foolish…

There were many foolish things she couldn't do, many plans that would never succeed. But there was a little bit of foolishness left to her, one last thing she could indulge in.

She calmed her breathing and her heart, listening to the silence of the room, to the faint hush that was all that was left of the roar of the wind outside. She breathed slow and deep, letting out the faintest trickle of magic.

She _listened._

* * *

Mordred left Elaine's room and moved steadily down the hallway, at a pace that was carefully calculated to make him look neither leisurely nor hurried. Behind him, he heard the sound of a faint caw, either one of his niece's ravens or one of his mother's crows. Either way, he didn't look over his shoulder. The castle was filled with blackbirds now, after Morgan's arrival, crows and ravens. His mind moved, as it always did, to his sister, to the goshawk that perched sometimes on a gloved arm, wings beating the air behind her.

No blackbirds for Morgana, no carrion-eaters. In a family of shadows, Morgana was a hunting hawk. Proud, headstrong, free.

The weight of his sins pressed down on him, threatening to slow his step, but Mordred had experience in pushing them away. He kept walking.

Near the foyer, he heard the sound of training, and paused to look in one of the large open ballrooms that had been repurposed as training chambers. Micah stood in the room with a sword in his hands, standing over their newest recruit. Grayson Knight knelt on the ground, propping himself up on his armored fist, breathing heavily. The marks from the Morrigan's displeasure were already beginning to fade. If he was angry at his treatment by the crow witch, he seemed determined to translate that into his training; he charged at Micah with a yell of rage, swinging his fist.

Micah sidestepped the blow with ease, the flat of his sword striking Grayson in the small of his back. The blow didn't cut, but it did knock the boy over. He sprawled out pathetically on the marble tiles. Micah looked down at him, sword in hand, a frown on his face.

"You're dead," he said, dispassionately. Grayson struggled to push himself up, unwilling to accept that, but Micah's expression was already far off, the sword in his hand dissolving away as he walked past Grayson, staring into the middle distance for a few moments before he noticed Mordred.

 _A lovesick researcher-turned-philosopher, a madwoman who pines for her child, and a teenager with anger management issues…_ Mordred couldn't help but think. _Behold the horsemen of the apocalypse._

Perhaps that was unfair. But he couldn't help but feel slightly…less than confident as Micah walked up to him and Grayson continued to struggle to rise. Morgan had avoided the boy, with good reason, Mordred thought. He didn't quite trust Grayson Knight's capacity to keep secrets secret.

"Something you need?" Micah asked.

Mordred tore his eyes away from the struggling child, looking back at Micah. "I'm leaving for a few days," he said.

Micah frowned, staring at Mordred for a moment as he tried to work out the meaning of that statement. Mordred let him parse it out. For all of his flaws, Micah had a…modicum of intelligence. He would have understood that if Mordred was in the habit of coming and going without alerting anyone to his movements, the fact that he was specifically mentioning that he was leaving had significance.

Mordred knew that he understood when he saw Micah's eyes widen, just a fraction. The other man stepped back, his expression of vague confusion falling away as he rearranged his features into the flippant smile and posture that Mordred hated so much. That Micah adopted so naturally.

"I suppose you'll want me to check in on your niece?" he asked, saying the words as if he were only poking fun.

Mordred snorted softly, as if he found the idea ridiculous. "Hardly," he said. "I don't quite trust you to look after anyone."

"Oh don't be so modest," Micah said. "The little princess is safe with me." A slight rearranging of his expression, a slight change in the look of his eye. It was as good as a wink.

"Stay out of trouble," Mordred said, his tone sharp, and it was the equivalent of a nod.

With the matter settled, he turned around, leaving the room.

* * *

Vayne lay on his bed in the deepening twilight, watching shadows spread their way across his bedroom ceiling. There had been class today, despite everything that had happened, but for the first time in a long time, he had decided to skip it. He had hardly left his room. In his mind, he was still standing on the rooftop the night before, watching as Morgan floated across the gap between two houses, watching as she disappeared from sight. He remembered the sight of Rei and Ayame, lying on the ground in the twins' ruined room, remembered Cassie's face as he told her what Morgan had said, remembered the look in Maka-sensei's eye when she finally arrived, but for some reason, his mind was stuck on that image of Morgan floating away, of the look in her eyes as she turned back towards him. Her words rang in his head, echoing and resounding until he didn't think they would leave.

It was just so unfair.

To Morgan. To him. To Cassie. To everyone. After everything they had all been through, every pain that they had struggled through in their lives, why weren't they allowed to be happy? Why did things like this have to happen? Things like Ophelia's death, like Clark's mother. Things like Morgan being taken away.

Unbidden, a memory flashed into his mind, one that he hadn't dwelled on in years. A dark shed, a cold winter night, light visible from the windows of an old house, so close and yet so far away. A hand on the back of his head, a harsh voice in his ear.

_Freak! Demon child!_

He clenched his fists tightly against the voice, gritting his teeth. Vayne closed his eyes, breathing deep until the memory was gone, until his fingers slowly loosened, his fists unclenching.

Those days were gone, he reminded himself. Dead and gone.

The one thing he could be certain of was that they were never coming back.

_Tap tap. Tap tap tap._

The sound, like something tapping on glass made him sit up, his eyes moving around his bedroom. Night had well and truly fallen now, and the lights in his room were off, the only light coming from the streetlamp outside. The tapping sound continued as his eyes moved, first drifting towards the bedroom door, which was closed, a sliver of light from the hallway outside shining beneath it. His eyes moved away from the door, coming all the way around until they settled on his room's window.

The tapping sound grew louder. Vayne stood up, feeling a chill in spite of himself as he padded over to the window, peering outside.

A raven was perched on the windowsill, tapping insistently at the glass. He exhaled, letting out a sigh of relief as he stared at the bird, his mind torn between two thoughts at once:

_Good, just a raven._

And…

_Ravens. Morgan._

The raven flicked beady black eyes up at him before continuing its tapping. Vayne rolled his eyes, but slid his fingers beneath the window pane, pushing it upward and letting in the cold night air. The raven hopped inside almost immediately, unfurling its wings and catching a gust as it floated over to Vayne's desk, landing on the corner and beginning to preen its feathers. Vayne let the window fall back into place.

"You squawk 'nevermore' at me and you're back out," he said, giving it a sidelong glance.

" _Caw!"_ said the raven, rather loudly.

"As long as we understand each other." Vayne eyed the bird, but the raven seemed supremely unconcerned by his presence, continuing to preen. He hadn't seen a raven in Death City since yesterday, not since Morgan's departure.

"She left you behind too, huh?" he asked, after a moment of silence.

The raven looked up at him, tilting its head to the side to regard him curiously. It opened its beak, letting out another cawing sound.

"I'll take that as a yes," said Vayne, holding out his hand.

The raven watched him for a moment before spreading its wings, landing on his shoulder. Its talons clutched the sleeve of his shirt, tight enough to pinch a little, but not tight enough to hurt. Vayne frowned at the bird out of the corner of his eye, considering this new development.

At length, he let out a sigh.

There really wasn't that much to consider.

"You want something to eat?" he asked, making his way towards the door for the first time in hours, since the last time Clark had checked on him. "We're fresh out of carrion, but I think we might have some pizza lying around somewhere…"

* * *

" _In times like this, it's more important than ever that we all stand together…"_

Clark drew in a deep breath, watching from the DWMA's balcony as the last few rays of the setting sun disappeared beyond the horizon, the sky growing dark. Behind him, the darkened hallways of the DWMA waited, most of the students having already gone home.

It had been…a strange day. With Rei and Ayame out of commission, Vayne and Cassie absent and Morgan…gone, Clark had been the only member of their team in attendance. Even Maka-sensei hadn't come in to teach, leaving Marie to substitute for her again. The classroom had felt sparse, subdued, and Clark felt the absences keenly. Both the absences of his friends and another absence, one that still ached when he thought of it.

Golden hair, a white dress. A smile.

He exhaled, placing his hands on the railing in front of him as he looked out over the city, his mind going back to that time. He'd been a wreck for weeks after Ophelia's death, and for good reason. It had been Vayne and the others who had drawn him out of it, Vayne and the others who had been there for him, supported him.

Now it was Vayne and the others who needed time.

Now, he was the one that was going to have to do the best he could to support them.

He watched as the sky grew dark, twilight chasing away the last rays of day. Then, taking in a deep breath for courage, he pushed off of the railing and stepped back, checking his watch.

Five more minutes.

Time to get this show on the road.

He stepped back into the building, passing empty classrooms and dark corridors until he reached the doors that led to Class Moonless Night. The lights were still on inside, the murmur of conversation filling the hallway. His heart started to beat with nervousness. There were more voices than he thought. He hadn't honestly imagined that so many people would show up.

Clark breathed, forcing himself to calm down, and wiped his palms on his jeans. He stepped forward, approaching the hulking figure that stood sentry outside the door.

Yorick nodded at him as he drew up to the classroom, glancing meaningfully through the crack in the door at the students gathered inside. "Good crowd tonight," he said. "Pretty much everyone made it. I'll give it to Jonas; he's good at spreading the word. Think even some first years snuck in, maybe a couple of N.O.T. kids."

"Thanks," said Clark with a nod, absorbing that information. It did nothing to chase the butterflies away. Yorick glanced back at him, frowning.

"You alright?" he asked. "You look a little green."

"I'm fine," said Clark. He took off his glasses, mopping at his forehead with a handkerchief. "Just…stage fright." He placed his glasses back on, forcing himself to calm down. "I'll be alright."

Yorick nodded sympathetically, pushing the door open. "Break a leg, _iinchou_ ," he said.

Clark nodded back, pausing only to adjust the red band tied around his sleeve, marked with the skull that was the symbol of the DWMA and with REP written on it in big block letters. Then, he straightened up, threw his shoulders back, and tried to project an aura of authority, tried to make it look like he knew what he was doing.

Maka-sensei had said it herself. In times like these, the most important thing was standing together.

It was time to start the first emergency meeting of Class Moonless Night.

* * *

**Omake**

Clark walked back into his apartment later that night to find the lights on in the kitchen. He approached it quietly, somewhat surprised to find Vayne out of his room, and paused at the sight in front of him.

Vayne was standing by the fridge, a slice of cold pizza in his hand. He was holding it up to a raven that was perched on his shoulder, the raven pecking steadily at the toppings.

Clark stared.

"Oh, hey," said Vayne, glancing over at him. "You're back."

"Uh…Vayne?" he said, almost afraid to ask. "Why—Why are you feeding pizza to a raven?"

Vayne shrugged. "He likes it," he said.

The raven on his shoulder let out several loud caws of protest, nipping at Vayne's ear.

"Ow!" Vayne said, flinching. "Wait—she? You're a 'she'?"

The raven's only response was to caw once more, snapping up a piece of pepperoni. Vayne nodded, rubbing at his ear, and looked back at Clark.

" _She_ likes it," he said. To the raven, he muttered, "I'm going to call you Lenore. You alright with that?"

Clark stared at the sight in front of him for a moment more before slowly, wisely, deciding to withdraw.


	37. Time for Action; All for One!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glad to hear you guys enjoyed the omake last chapter, although I can't take all the credit for it. It was my beta who demanded that it be put in there. Unfortunately, this chapter doesn't have an omake, but the next chapter should have some lightheartedness in it to make up for it.

**CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX**

**Time for Action; All for One!**

* * *

When the sun rose the next day, light filtering through Vayne's bedroom window, it felt like a different world. He blinked his eyes in the sunlight, staring up at the ceiling as he considered how he felt. It was just a little after dawn, earlier than he was used to waking up on a Saturday, but somehow, he didn't feel tired. Instead, he felt a restless sort of energy bubbling through him, an urge to act, to _do_ something instead of moping around for another day. He lay there for a few more moments, listening to the silence of the world around him, before he sat up, realizing what he had to do.

The raven squawked at him from the desk as he reached for his phone beside it, fixing him with a baleful stare. Vayne had turned the ringer off yesterday, not wanting to be disturbed, but now he paged through his messages and notifications, frowning. Aside from a message from Jonas about some sort of 'emergency meeting', a few missed calls from Clark and a handful of scattered messages from people in class who were asking about Morgan, there was nothing of interest. He set the phone back down and glanced at the raven.

"I'm going to have to go check on her, huh?" he asked.

The raven let out another caw, eyes still fixed on him. Vayne nodded, expecting that, and then as an afterthought slipped his phone into the pocket of his sweatpants. He ran a hand through his hair, glancing at himself in the mirror.

One way or another, he thought, frowning at the disheveled figure that looked back at him, it was going to be a long day.

He stepped outside, heading down to the kitchen. To his surprise, Clark was already there, sitting at the table with a mug of coffee and some half-eaten toast in front of him. He was bent over the notebook he used to record class affairs, scribbling something down with a frown. His phone, lying next to him, buzzed and chimed with regularity.

"Morning," Vayne said, making his way to the fridge.

Clark looked up in surprise, blinking at Vayne from behind glasses that had slid down the bridge of his nose. "You're up early," he said.

"Could say the same about you," Vayne pointed out, pulling out a carton of milk and reaching into the cupboard for a box of cereal. He shook the box, frowning at the rattling noise that came from inside it, and emptied the remnants of it into a bowl. "Busy morning?" he asked, pouring the milk.

"You could say that," said Clark, wincing as his phone chimed again. He tapped at the screen, looking through the message quickly before letting the screen go dark. He had no sooner turned back to his notes when another notification rang out. Vayne frowned at him, setting his bowl down on the other side of the table from Clark.

"Well, look at you," Vayne said. "Mr. Popular again?"

Clark smiled at him weakly, looking back at his phone. "I wish," he said. "I'm in touch with the other class reps. We're trying to make sure we're all on the same page."

"Same page?" Vayne asked, shoving a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. Around a mouthful of Deathly Charms, he asked, "What for?"

"The usual things," said Clark, rubbing at his eyes from behind his glasses. "Making sure we know where all of our students are, whose out on a mission, when they're getting back. Who's bullying and being bullied, who looks like they might be a target. That sort of thing."

"The teachers asked you to do all that?" Vayne asked, surprised.

Clark shook his head. "The teachers haven't said anything, but they're all busy trying to figure out this whole thing with Morgan. We figured we'd help where we could." He paused over his writing, looking up at Vayne. "You're looking a lot better, by the way. Are you feeling okay?"

"Fine," Vayne lied, "Never better." It was an obvious lie, but there was a little bit of truth to it. He was done feeling sorry for himself. He swallowed another oversized bite of cereal, then looked at Clark. "So, you have some time today?"

Clark frowned, but looked up from his notebook, ignoring another message on his phone as he studied Vayne. "Why?" he asked, after a few long moments. "Have anything in mind?"

"I was thinking we could head down to Morgan's place," said Vayne. "I'm worried about Cassie."

Clark stared at him, holding his gaze for a long time. Then, just when Vayne was about to prod him for an answer, he nodded, lifting the cover of his notebook carefully and closing it.

* * *

Cassie and Morgan's apartment would have looked the same the last time Clark had seen it, had it not been for the ever-present cloud of gloom that seemed to surround it, an aura of misery that seemed to seep into the very stones of the street just outside. The curtains were drawn over the street-facing windows, and the inside of the house looked dark, empty besides the occasional flash of colored light that peeked out from behind the curtains. Clark, who was very much aware that a witch had inhabited this apartment up until now, was finding that this was the first time the place had actually _looked_ like the sort of place where something magical and terrifying might live.

He paused on the sidewalk across the street from the apartment, glancing at Vayne. His partner eyed the flashing lights in the window with an air of calm determination, his frown deepening as he stepped forward. Clark hurried to follow. They were halfway to the Cassie's door when the door to the building's stairwell opened, a harried-looking young woman in heels and a business suit stepping out.

"Finally," she said, seeing them. "You're friends with the students that live on the first floor, aren't you? Do you think you can talk to them about the noise? It's—it's a stressful time at headquarters right now, and I'd really like to get some sleep when I'm home."

"Noise?" Clark repeated, frowning.

The woman shrugged. "Rattling and scraping," she said. "Sometimes the walls shake. It feels like the old building's falling apart.

He and Vayne exchanged a glance as the woman walked past him, heading towards the DWMA. Vayne eyed the door, his expression grim. Before Clark could do anything, he stepped forward, walking up to it. Clark hurried to follow, reaching the front door at the same time as Vayne did. His partner reached out, ringing the doorbell. There was no answering chime from inside the house, no ringing sound that heralded their arrival. Vayne frowned, then rang the doorbell again.

Silence. Clark glanced down at the button, then peered up through the darkened windows.

"Maybe the power's out?" he suggested.

Vayne didn't respond, but reached up, banging somewhat forcefully on the door.

"Cass?" he called. "Cassie, are you in there? It's just me. I want to talk."

There was no response. Vayne tried the doorknob. It rattled uselessly in his grip, locked.

He and Clark exchanged a glance.

"Don't class reps have a way to get into people's apartments if they need to?" Vayne asked.

"We can request the master key," said Clark, already walking up to the window. He tried to peer in through the glass, but what little he could see of the apartment from the gap between the curtains told him nothing. It was dark inside, and there was no Cassie to be seen. His stomach roiled for a reason he couldn't name, and he looked back over his shoulder at Vayne. "Only if it's an emergency, though."

Vayne tilted his head in the direction of the door, as if to say that this qualified as an emergency. Clark's eyes flicked uncertainly to the DWMA, visible in the distance.

"I'd have to go up to the school," he said. "I'd need to go through one of the staff, maybe even Shinigami-sama."

He knew even as he said it that there wouldn't be any point. The teachers had been reclusive over the past few days, tied up in staff meetings or running off on secretive assignments. There was a reason why he had taken it upon himself to organize the E.A.T. classes. Even if he did manage to find a staff member and get the key to Cassie's apartment, it wouldn't be doing Cassie any favors. The incident would go on her record, and he knew that the whole school was already talking about Morgan, spreading rumors and insinuating things about Cassie. He knew firsthand just how devastating rumors could be.

He placed his hand on the door, trailing his fingertips across the wood, considering his options. When he looked up at Vayne, he could see in his partner's eyes that Vayne already knew what he would choose. Feeling a little desperate, Clark turned back towards the door, knocking on it hard.

"Cassie?" he asked. "It's Clark. We're both worried about you. If you don't answer, we're coming in, okay?"

He waited. There was still no response, although the lights in the window flickered an uneasy shade of purple. Clark drew back from the door, taking a deep breath. He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut, then extended a hand towards Vayne.

"Quick and clean," he said.

Vayne nodded, transforming without a word. Clark gripped the pendulum blade with one hand and turned, swinging it diagonally upward across the door. The blade sliced through the wood easily, stopping just before it touched the doorframe. The two halves of the door clattered to the ground with a crash, and Clark looked back at the street with alarm, but there didn't seem to be anyone around to try and call security on them.

Which was good. Clark didn't think that Mifune-sensei or any of his staff would be particularly pleased to see them right about now.

He stepped over the ruined halves of the door as Vayne took on his human form again, stepping into the dark apartment.

Clark stared. The apartment around him seemed to have—for lack of a better word— _melted,_ the walls taking on a liquid quality as they warped and glittered around him. A narrow winding passage extended from the front door, a hallway that hadn't been there before. The wallpaper flickered in eerie shades of violet and green, and the floor had a spongy quality, as if he were standing on foam.

"Cassie?" he called.

There was no answer, just a shimmering across the walls that reminded him of some glowing lichen that he had seen once in a cave. He looked back at Vayne, who was now eyeing the narrow passage ahead of them with an expression of uncertainty, the color draining from his face.

It was like the haunted house, Clark realized, looking over the twisted landscape. It was like the haunted house they had made for the Death Festival their first year, except chewed up and put into a blender.

"What the hell…?" he heard Vayne say from behind him.

Clark looked over his shoulder, about to tell Vayne that he didn't have to go into the house, that he could stay and watch the door, but Vayne drew himself up to his full height before Clark could, staring at the passageway with a sort of steely determination in his eyes. He strode forward, stepping into the dark corridor, and Clark had to hurry to catch up with him. It was cold inside the passage, the temperature dropping by several degrees, and his breath started to mist in front of his face. A chill breeze moved through the hallway, whispers floating on the air with each gust of wind. As each whisper rang out, Clark saw Vayne shiver.

The passage twisted and turned, but it seemed to be moving in a straight line, just as their haunted house had. Not a maze, not truly, just a corridor that twisted enough to make it feel like one. The corridor widened a few feet ahead of them, like they were approaching a room, and Clark saw Vayne hesitate at the threshold before stepping in, his eyes squeezed tightly shut as though he was afraid of what they would find there.

But there was no horror waiting for them inside the room, no ghastly representation of one of the monsters they had created in the haunted house. Instead, the room was completely empty, devoid of anything but ghostly, translucent figures that moved across the room, acting out events with a sort of stilted, jerky quality, as though he were watching a series of pictures laid out in front of each other.

He blinked, realizing that he recognized the figures. And not just that, he recognized the _scene._

Clark placed a hand on Vayne's arm. His partner jumped, eyes still squeezed tight. "It's alright," Clark said, trying to sound reassuring. "They're not ghosts, just memories."

Vayne hesitated, then slowly opened his eyes, looking around the room. Clark looked as well. In one corner of the room, the corner they were currently facing, stood the ghostly figure of Cassie, standing in a translucent representation of the DWMA's library. She had a pair of books in her hands. Behind her, not far from her, stood a ghostly representation of Clark himself, carrying a larger stack of books. They walked past him and through him, talking quietly, Cassie putting books away on the shelf and Clark passing them to her. It was one of his most recent memories of Cassie, the time that the two of them had spent a Saturday organizing the library.

But that was only in this corner of the room. In the other three corners, the same scene was playing out, set in the DWMA's library, but the particulars were different each time. In one corner, it was Ethan that stood there instead of him, holding books while Cassie put them away with a smile on her face. In one corner—and the heat rose to his face at this—Cassie was standing with her back to the bookshelf, arms wrapped around Clark's neck. He had his hands around her waist and was pressed up close to her, kissing her thoroughly. Clark quickly looked away, facing the last corner.

In the last corner, he was standing there red-faced, with his hand on the back of his neck as Cassie laughed at him and Ophelia stood beside him, one hand raised to her mouth to stifle a giggle. He stared at Ophelia, feeling something in his heart clench. Clark walked up to her, watching as she smiled at the ghost of him, watching as that ghost's face reddened some more, as he turned away from her. Ophelia placed a hand on 'his' arm, a gesture of familiarity that seemed to make his ghost-self relax.

Clark reached out with his real hand, his fingers passing straight through her cheek. There was nothing there, not even the sensation of cold to tell him that he was touching anything at all.

"What are these?" Vayne asked, his voice hushed as he walked up to him.

Clark glanced around the room, taking in the four scenes. One was a memory. The other three…

"Realities…" he breathed, suddenly understanding. He looked around the room with wide eyes, unable to fight a sudden sense of awe. "These are alternate realities. They're possibilities. They're…"

 _They're what could have been_ …he realized, his heart sinking as he looked back at Ophelia, as she laughed at him.

Vayne looked around the room again, and Clark saw the same sort of awe start to make its way onto his partner's face.

"Cass…" he breathed. "She can do that?"

"No idea," said Clark, reluctantly pulling his hand away. It took every ounce of will he had to turn away from Ophelia, but he managed it, letting his hand fall back to his side.

"Come on," he told Vayne. "We should go."

Realities flickered in front of him as he and Vayne made their way down the corridor, fragments of possibility gleaming in the half-light. He saw himself dancing with Ophelia on the night of the anniversary ball, saw a reality where she didn't break a heel, where she stayed until the night was through. He saw a reality where the two of them lay in the dispensary, beaten but alive, a reality where he'd decided to walk her home. He saw a reality where they were gathered for their first Combat Arts class again, but instead of Morgan and Cassie partnering up with them, it was Rhythm and Rhyme. He saw Mifune face them to teach class, then saw Mifune flicker and fade away, replaced by Ayame's mother, by Tsubaki. He saw threads stretching outward from that reality, grasping at another, bloodier image, of a younger Tsubaki cradling Mifune's fallen body, laying him gently to the ground.

He glimpsed realities where Rei had died—after the fight with Grayson, after his encounter with Micah. He saw Maka-sensei and her husband grieving, garbed in black, more times than he cared to. He saw Morgan approaching Cassie on the first day of class, saw the hesitation on Cassie's face as Morgan extended a hand to her, and then the whole world rewound itself and it was him standing in Morgan's place, offering the same hand.

He saw a world where the DWMA didn't exist. Where it lay shattered, dashed to the ground, and the only thing that existed was a world of darkness and pain. A world of fear. He saw a world where he had gone mad, a world where he _had_ killed Ophelia. He stared at that vision of himself for a long moment, stared at the emptiness and the darkness in his eyes, the energy crackling from the tips of his fingers.

Vayne had to drag him away.

It was enough to make his head spin. There were too much, too many possibilities. Too many branching off points, too many things that could have happened in the past that would have changed everything.

And then they made one final turn and emerged in a room, and Clark found himself staring at one final scene, one last reality.

Cassie was crouched in a corner of the room, her knees drawn up close to her chest. She had her eyes squeezed shut, her hands clasped over her ears tightly as if she was trying to stop herself from hearing things, although the room was silent. Shadows crawled across her skin, and Clark realized with a shiver that those shadows were _words_. They were endless, infinite quantities of them, all wriggling across her pale skin like snakes until he could barely see her.

The memory that played out in front of them was chaos, and Clark realized quickly that he was looking at their own reality.

Mifune-sensei stood alone in the center of a wide room, a warehouse somewhere, bodies strewn around him. The bodies were all clasping guns, a few of them staring up at the ceiling with wide, unseeing eyes. Swords lay scattered around the room, discarded, many of them stained with blood. As they watched, the ghostly figure of Mifune walked past the bodies, walking towards a closed door—

—and disappeared as he approached it, vanishing in a puff of white smoke as he reappeared in another corner of the room. There, a ghostly Cassie was huddled much the same way the real one was, hands clasped over her ears. Her eyes were open though, staring at Mifune in fear. Clark watched as the samurai came to stand in front of her, dropping his sword and crouching in front of her. The figure didn't move, but voices rang out in the room anyway, hushed voices from a time that couldn't possibly have been that long ago.

"… _What's your name?"_

_A girl's voice replied, shaky with fear._ _"Index."_

" _Your real name."_

_"…Cassandra."_

_The echoes rang out, overlapping each other. Cassie's voice, Mifune's voice, and other voices, some of them gruff, others kind, all unfamiliar to Clark._

_"Index."_

_"Cassandra…"_

_"The Grimoire of Reality…"_

_"There was another book?!"_

"… _The wife! Arachne, you goddamned genius!"_

"… _Cassandra."_

" _Cassandra…"_

"Cassie!"

The last wasn't a memory. Clark blinked as the voices suddenly came to a halt, and he looked over his shoulder, realizing that Vayne had approached Cassie, realizing that he was crouched in front of her, that he had a hand on her arm and was gripping her tight. Cassie sucked in a sharp breath and opened her eyes, the room wavering for a second as they fixed on him. They were blue, wide, and terrified. Clark realized with a jolt that the words were in her eyes as well, flecks of black against the blue of her irises.

"Vayne…" she breathed, and then she was trembling. "Vayne, she left. She left me, Vayne. Everyone leaves. Everyone always leaves…"

"Shh…" said Vayne, reaching out and enfolding her in a hug. "Shh, I know…"

Cassie let out a hiccupping sob, grabbing onto Vayne tightly, her fingers clutching onto the back of his jacket.

"Shh…" Vayne said, and this time, Clark could hear his partner's voice quavering. "Shh…It's okay. I know..."

* * *

Ayame was released from the dispensary a full day earlier than Rei, after a final evaluation from a tired-looking Shelley Stein. Her own injuries were less severe than his, considering that she had been in weapon form for most of the fight. Rei had spent the afternoon, evening, and morning after her departure lying in bed and thinking, trying to gain as much information as he could about what was happening in the school outside of the dispensary walls, what was being done about the twins, and what would eventually be done about Morgan.

From the sound of it, though, he wasn't the only one without a clue.

It was just a little bit before sunset on Saturday when Professor Stein came into the dispensary, looked over him one last time and let him leave, with instructions to take it easy and try not to find his way into the dispensary again. His parents had come in shortly after, while he was putting his uniform jacket back on and grabbing his things. Without a word, Soul stepped forward, taking the backpack that had held a change of clothes and some homework from him and slinging it over his shoulder.

"We'll drive you home," he said, inclining his head towards the door.

His apartment wasn't a long walk from the DWMA, but Rei didn't argue. There were a couple of steep hills on the way to his place, not to mention the stairs that led down from the DWMA, and his whole body still felt like one big bruise. He rubbed absently at one of the bandages plastered to the side of his face, and moved to follow his parents.

Rei eyed them as they walked ahead of him, moving slowly through the DWMA's hallways. His parents weren't old, not even in their forties yet, but in some ways they looked like they had aged overnight. Neither of them looked like they had had much sleep in the past few days, and his father walked with his head down, the way he always did when overwork was making him grouchy. His mother had a distant look in her eye, as though she were already miles away.

 _I did this…_ Rei thought, feeling a pang of guilt that twisted his stomach. If he had just been a little stronger—but no, thinking that way wasn't going to help anyone.

_Mordred did this._

That was a little bit better, but not by much. It was almost as though his heart knew what he was trying to do, knew that he was trying to distract himself from his own guilt by focusing on his anger for Mordred, and it wasn't having any of it. The anger took, but reluctantly, the rage hissing and sparking in his gut like a fire that was trying to catch on damp wood.

He felt angry, but he still felt guilty, and now the feelings were compounded by the fact that he also felt slightly sick.

"So…what happens now?" he asked, as they approached the DWMA's front door.

Maka and Soul looked back at him at once, a movement so perfectly timed that it was like it was coming from the same person. He saw their exchanged glances, saw the look that passed between them, the ' _do you want to take this?',_ before Soul looked back at him.

"We can't really talk about the details outside the Death Room," Soul said. "But we're going to get them back."

"We think we know how to find them," said Maka, picking up the thread of the story as naturally as if she had started the conversation in the first place. "And…we have reason to believe that they're alright. They wouldn't have…have taken them that way if they didn't need them."

Silence followed her statement, heightening the grim mood that had settled over them as Rei picked his way carefully down the steps. The fact that the Morrigan needed the twins was small comfort. There was really only one thing that she could possibly need them _for_ , only one thing that made Annie and Cori more special than any of the many, _many_ Demon Weapons that inhabited Death City.

Annie. The black blood.

Soul had it too, had passed it on to her, if Stein's theory for how Annie had gotten it was to be believed, during a somewhat ill-advised Soul Resonance with Maka before they even knew that they were having more children in the first place. But Annie had been born with the black blood. It was all the blood she had, and as a result, it was much purer than anything the Morrigan might have been able to get out of his father.

And much more potent, which would explain why she had taken Cori as well.

He thought about mentioning his suspicions to his parents, but there wasn't any point. They would already know. Rei thought about what exactly the Morrigan might need the black blood for. A chill crawled up his spine.

"Can I help?" he asked.

Maka shook her head, not looking back at him. "Not yet," she said. "When we know more, maybe. But if we can help it, we aren't getting the students involved this time."

 _So I'm supposed to sit here,_ Rei thought, but didn't say it. _And be useless._

Instead, he asked about the other thing that was on his mind.

"What about Morgan?"

Maka drew in a deep breath. He saw from the look she exchanged with Soul that neither of them particularly wanted to bring this up, but after a moment of silence, she spoke anyway. "She…we'll need to bring her in for questioning when we find her. If she hasn't done anything wrong, she won't be harmed, but…the Witch Assembly probably has a few questions for her as well."

His heart sank. He thought about Morgan, thought about the look in her eye when she left, the grief there.

"Morgan didn't want to leave—," he began.

"I _know_ , Rei," said Maka, her tone sharp enough to cut Rei off mid-sentence, sharp enough even to make Soul look over, startled. She drew in a deep breath, softening her expression, then looked back at him. "I know…but you know how this looks. If she came back…somehow, on her own, it would be different."

_If she came back…_

There was something there, something reluctantly implied, something that Rei was sure he was supposed to catch. He held his breath, barely daring to believe it for a moment, but he had to know anyway. He climbed into the backseat of his parents' car, his eyes on them as they took their seats, his mind spinning.

"And if someone managed…" he began, "…to convince her to come back?"

Soul turned the ignition. The growl of the engine as it came to life filled the silence for a moment, and then the car was making its way down the road. Maka kept her eyes firmly on the street ahead of her, not looking back at him.

"Then I might have to remind that someone that taking unsanctioned actions during a time like this is dangerous, reckless, and—if that person were a student—a breach of school rules," she said. "But as busy as we are right now…I don't think we'd have the resources to stop someone like that, if they were really determined. I honestly don't think we'd notice."

She didn't say much else for the rest of the drive, but she didn't need to. Her meaning was clear.

_I can't tell you to go find her, but I'm not going to stop you either. Just don't get caught._

* * *

The others were waiting for him when he walked in through the door.

They were all there—Vayne, Clark, Cassie. Ayame. He felt their eyes on him as he closed the front door behind him, keeping his own eyes on the ground so that he wasn't looking directly at any of them.

He knew why they were here. They were getting to their feet, offering well-wishes, taking his bag from him and asking him if he was alright, but he could sense the underlying question behind their concern, saw it in the looks they gave him, the edge of fear and confusion and concern in their eyes.

_What do we do?_

_You're the leader. You should know._

Their stares were like accusations, because he didn't. He didn't know. His mother's words were still ringing in his mind and he knew what _she_ would have done in his position, but she had always been brave. He knew that she felt fear, had seen it in her more than once, but Maka's fear spurred her into action. His fear made him hide, made him freeze in place, made him unable to do much more than watch as things happened around him, made him want others to do what was needed instead.

It was a coward's fear, and he honestly wasn't sure if his mother had ever experienced fear like that for herself.

"I need a minute."

The words were out of his mouth before he even had time to think about them, spoken to the empty air around him, to none of them and all of them at once. His eyes met Ayame's briefly as she turned towards him, drawn to her before he could help himself, and he quickly looked away, brushing past all of them as he headed up the stairs to his room.

Ayame found him on the roof ten minutes later, watching as the sun set over the western horizon, turning the sky into fire.

He sensed her before she reached him, felt her moving through the net of awareness that he had spread around himself using his Soul Perception. She didn't speak, but walked over to him, silent as a shadow, and sank down onto the rooftop next to him. He heard her let out a long sigh, felt the ripple of motion pass through her as she leaned into him, her warmth pressing into his side, her head resting on his shoulder. Her hand lay on the rooftop between them; he reached for it without thinking, his fingers threading through the spaces between hers.

Neither of them spoke for a few long moments, something that Rei was almost grateful for. He knew that he should have felt embarrassed, should have felt hesitant about being as close to her as this, but he was too tired, too worn out and too confused to care. He could sort through his own feelings later. At the moment, what mattered was that Ayame was here, next to him, here, whole and alive.

What mattered was that he could draw strength from her.

They remained there for a while, savoring the silence, eyes fixed on the horizon.

"My mom said she wouldn't stop us if we decided to go after Morgan," Rei said after a while, when he felt he could.

Ayame didn't speak, but her hand squeezed his briefly to show that she was listening.

"Someone has to," he said. "If it has to come down to the DWMA retrieving her, things could be bad."

She hummed in reply, thumb brushing over his knuckles.

"It's also pretty likely that we'll find my sisters, wherever Morgan is."

Ayame didn't respond that time, but he could tell that she was listening to him, waiting. He went on, emboldened by the fact that she was there, that someone was listening to him.

"I _want_ to go after Morgan. I want to find my sisters. And I want to help her."

He felt her head lift slowly from his shoulder, felt the weight of her gaze as she turned towards him, her eyes fixed on the side of his face. He didn't turn to meet those eyes, knowing that if he did, they would be his undoing. Instead, he drew in a deep breath, saying the words that he had been holding back, the words that had driven him to seek the safety of the rooftop in the first place.

"…But I'm scared."

Silence. Rei waited with bated breath, the shameful admission hanging in the air between them. He waited for her to rage at him, waited for her to say it was alright, waited for her to leave.

She didn't say anything, at least not immediately. Her free hand landed on the side of his face, slowly, gently, turning him to face her. Her eyes filled his vision, wide and violet. Expectant. Waiting. For a moment, his breath caught. His heart rate sped up; the heat rose to his face. His world shrank, narrowing until it was just the two of them. He could feel her soul wavelength humming beneath her skin where he held her hand, a steady vibration, the same low hum of power that he felt whenever he wielded her weapon form. He could see traces of her soul within her, bright blue and brilliant, suffusing her with light and energy and power.

But most of all, he thought he could see himself reflected in her eyes, reflected in the way she looked at him.

Her fingers rested lightly on his cheek, the barest touch, but her fingertips seemed to burn as she moved her hand, tracing meaningless patterns onto his skin.

There was no judgment in those eyes, nothing but expectation and understanding.

"What are you going to do?" she asked, and suddenly he knew the answer, knew it as suddenly and as completely as if he had always known it.

"Regret this," he said. "Probably."

But not as much as the alternative. Nowhere _near_ as much as the alternative.

Her hand fell away from the side of his face. He wanted to catch it, to keep it there, but now was neither the moment nor the time.

He had work to do now.

Ayame smiled at him, and he saw in her eyes that she understood what he was going to do, understood what he wanted to do.

"All for one," she began.

"One for all," Rei finished, managing a smile in return. He gave her hand one last squeeze before releasing it, getting to his feet. Ayame followed, trailing behind him as lowered himself slowly down the wall towards his bedroom window, careful not to aggravate his injuries. He could feel her behind him as he walked down the stairs, as he stepped into the living room.

They were still waiting there. Clark, Vayne, and Cassie. They were seated in the living room, curled up in armchairs and on the couch, but their eyes were still filled with expectation as they turned towards him.

He had an answer for them now.

"We're going after Morgan," he said.

Beside him, Ayame beamed with pride. Vayne turned sharply to face him at that, and Cassie looked up from where she had been seated in the armchair, her eyes wide and gleaming.

"Knew it," Vayne said, grinning. "See, I told you, Cass. Rei wouldn't let us down."

Clark got to his feet from where he was seated on the couch, his phone in his hands as he turned to face Rei. Rei nodded at him, looking over the group. Vayne, Clark, Cassie. Ayame. Four of his closest friends.

What _couldn't_ they do, if they all worked together?

"We need plans," Rei said, stepping forward. He glanced at Clark, who had pulled a large notebook out of his messenger bag without a word, and was already beginning to take notes. "I'm not my mom—my Soul Perception isn't strong enough to scan the whole world at once. Does anyone have any idea where Morgan and the twins might be—any at all?"

Vayne and Clark's eyes drifted towards Cassie. Rei looked in that direction as well, and when he did, Cassie raised a shaky hand.

"Um…" she began. "Morgan mentioned once that her uncle had a side business in Vegas."

"Vegas?" Vayne asked.

"A casino," Cassie clarified.

"A _casino_?!" Ayame repeated, incredulous. " _Mordred_?"

Cassie nodded. "She only has one uncle," she said.

"It's a start," said Rei, glancing at Clark, who was furiously writing. "Do you think you can find it, Cassie?"

Cassie nodded again, her expression growing determined. "I can."

"Question," said Vayne, raising his hand. Rei turned towards him, acknowledging him with a gesture. "How are we even going to _get_ into a casino in the first place? I mean, ignoring the fact that the guy already knows what we _look like,_ no one's gonna believe we're 21."

Cassie looked up before Rei could even speak.

"Don't worry about that," she said. "Leave the disguises to me."


	38. Luck Be a Lady Pt. 1; Infiltration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cassie's powers are very much inspired by a certain character from Brandon Sanderson's Reckoners trilogy (even mentioning their name is a spoiler), so I encourage you to read those if you want to see even more reality-warping shenanigans.

**CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN**

**Luck Be a Lady Pt. 1; Infiltration**

* * *

Rei peered at his reflection in the mirror, frowning as he prodded at the side of his face, tugged at his hair, inspected the set of his jaw.

No matter which way he looked at it, he looked entirely too much like his dad. But there wasn't really that much he could do about it. He ran a hand through his hair, giving himself one last scowl, then stepped out of the bathroom and into the motel room that he and the others had rented.

The plan to infiltrate The Round Table, Mordred's establishment, had been cobbled together at the last minute, broke just about every single school rule short of the ones punishable by outright execution, and didn't exactly respect the laws of physics or the sanctity of the space-time continuum either, but so far so good. After learning the name of the casino from Cassie, it had barely taken Clark an hour to find out that while it had been suspiciously 'closed for renovations' over the past month or so, Mordred was hosting a grand re-opening party that weekend, and from there it had been like any other mission. Step one: slip away from the DWMA without being caught. Step two: Find a way into Mordred's party. Step three: Find information about where Fata Morgana, the Morrigan's flying castle, would be.

The first step had been the simplest, even if it seemed to Rei that it was the most nerve-wracking. Mordred's party was on a Saturday, so the only thing they had to do was slip away from Death City Friday night, and hope that no one noticed. The nice thing about being an E.A.T. student at the DWMA was that they had access to skills and resources that most normal fourteen-year-olds didn't.

Or to put it another way, who knew Clark could drive a pick-up truck?

They had had to make sure that they had all of their gear with them when they left, because there wouldn't be enough time to slip back into Death City and pick up anything they forgot. So the two days leading up to their departure had been a frantic mess of making sure that everyone knew which things were in which bags, and that everything was packed and ready to go. They didn't have to pack much—since their disguises didn't actually take on a physical form—but what they did have to pack was absolutely essential.

He was fairly certain that his mother knew what they were up to, had caught on to the fact that he refused to look her in the eye during class on Friday afternoon, and had been half-convinced that she was going to stop them on the road, but if Maka knew what they were doing, she hadn't interfered.

So they were here, with all of their gear. Step one: check.

Step two was a little trickier.

Cassie had explained her powers to them in fits and starts over the past couple of days, particularly the parts of her power that involved alternate realities. Apparently, as the Grimoire of Reality, her powers came in two parts. She could make whatever was written into her pages real for a time, and she could refer back through her pages and draw out things that were already real, that existed in alternate realities.

The first part was something she needed a meister for, but the second part was something that, with some limitations, she could do on her own.

"There are realities where the four of you were each born a little earlier," she had said, explaining the details of her plan to them. "I can tap into each of those realities, turning you into older versions of yourself. It's more of an illusion than anything, and it won't last long, but I think I can hold it for three, maybe four hours."

She'd lasted about three and a half hours during trial runs, so Rei, ever cautious, had planned for two and a half, not counting the thirty minutes it would take them to get in place. There were also apparently situations in each of those realities where the four of them had had to dress up in formal wear, so appropriate clothing wasn't a problem. He tugged at the lapels of his borrowed tuxedo as he stepped into the room, wondering what exactly his older self had been up to when his appearance had been rudely borrowed and superimposed onto this one, but Cassie had said that it was probably better not to ask.

He shut the door behind him, looking at the others, who were arrayed around the room waiting for him. Clark, Vayne, and Ayame had each been transformed as well, taking on the appearance of their older selves. Clark had filled out somewhat, and Vayne had changed his hairstyle, but in many ways, they still looked very much like themselves, enough so that Rei found himself worrying whether or not Mordred would recognize them. But blond hair and brown hair were common enough features to come by, and the two of them did look somewhat different now, so they had decided to call it a calculated risk. Not so for Ayame, whose blue hair and violet eyes would stand out in any crowd, but after some deliberation, Cassie had managed to find a reality where Ayame had inherited Tsubaki's rich, black hair.

She looked odd with dark hair, like herself but not, and Rei found it difficult to look at this older version of her and reconcile it with Ayame. But if _he_ had trouble doing that, so would Mordred.

Besides, if all went well, the two of them wouldn't need to keep up this charade for long.

"Alright," he said, trying to sound like a leader. "Let's go over the plan one last time. IDs?"

"Got 'em," said Vayne from where he was seated backwards on the motel's desk chair, his arms folded across the chair's back. He held up drivers' licenses with their borrowed names and identities on them. "Still, not sure I _want_ to know how Jonas knows how to make fakes like this. Or why."

"Probably best not to ask," said Rei. "Invitations?"

"Here too," said Vayne, grinning. "One for Clark, one for you, and one for Ayame."

Cassie could draw an illusion of anything that actually existed from a reality near their own, but even she had had trouble finding one where they had names that were different enough from their real ones to not make Mordred suspicious, or a reality where they had actually been _invited_ to Mordred's party. After some careful thinking, she had managed to lift one of the invitations from a guest that had been invited to Mordred's party in another universe, one that Rei hoped was similar enough to their own that the invitation wouldn't have a recognizably different design. From there, it had been up to Clark to use his connections to find a way to copy the needed documents.

Chalk another up to DWMA skills and resources.

"Earpieces?" Rei asked.

"Gotcha covered," said Ayame, scooping a cloth bag up from the bed and tossing it underhand to Rei. The earpieces had been his and Ayame's contribution to the venture, swiped from right under the nose of the DWMA Intelligence Agency. If the theft had already been discovered, Sid was probably regretting giving them special training right about now.

He slid one of the earpieces out of the bag and passed it around to the others, slipping the device into his ear and turning it on. It crackled to life, and they took a moment to test them. Once they were sure that the earpieces were secure, Rei looked around at the others.

"Everyone know your jobs?" he asked.

They nodded.

"Let's go over them one more time to be sure. Clark?"

Clark smiled, striking a pose from where he stood next to the doorway, dressed in a tailored suit. "I drink, gamble and cavort with the best of them, and all the while make sure that you and Ayame know when our friend Mordred decides to leave the party."

"No actual drinking," Rei pointed out. "You're not actually twenty-one. And we're working."

"I know, I know," said Clark, giving him a reassuring smile. "Just a figure of speech."

He wasn't convinced, but there was no time to worry about that now. "Vayne?" he asked instead.

"Bartending duty," said Vayne, tugging at the bartender's outfit that he was wearing. Cassie had managed to find a reality where that was Vayne's job, and Vayne had spent the two days leading up to the mission learning more than any teenager needed to know about mixed drinks. "I do the same thing as Clark—keep an eye on the mark and let you guys know if there's any trouble."

"Great," said Rei. "Cassie?"

"Mission control," said Cassie, her eyes glassy from the effort of keeping all of these separate realities contained. "I find a nice quiet spot on the rooftop across the street and basically concentrate _really_ hard for the next three hours, all while watching our escape route."

"Sounds good," said Rei, nodding. "Ayame?"

"You and I are on Team Super-Special-Awesome-Ninja-Warriors," Ayame said, flashing him a brilliant grin. "Or to use _your_ lame name for it, Team Shadow. We get in the building with the others, play around for a bit, then slip away as soon as we get the chance, Cassie drops the disguises to give her more time with Clark and Vayne, and we canvas the place for information. When we're done, we head right back out to the floor, Cassie does her thing again, and we all slip out one at a time and disappear into the night."

Rei nodded at her. "And that's pretty much all there is to it," he said.

"Oh, is _that_ all?" asked Vayne, grinning. "Doesn't sound too hard. I mean, we're only breaking the laws of reality and trying to pull one over a thousand-year-old sorcerer, right?"

"Shut it before I lose my nerve," said Rei, shooting him a glare before looking up at the others. "Let's get going."

* * *

"Oh, wow, that's _very_ interesting. What did you say your name was again?"

Clark gave the woman in the blue dress his most charming smile, letting her rest a little on his arm as she took another sip from her glass of champagne. Inwardly, however, he found himself feeling a little lost. The same 'techniques' that had gotten him turned down by every girl at the DWMA not too long ago seemed to be working like a charm here, but he couldn't really tell whether that was a result of the crowd being different, or if it was because he looked older, or if it was that the reality that Cassie was drawing from was one in which he was _loaded._ It wasn't like he really cared—the money he spent here would disappear with the rest of it when Cassie stopped concentrating, and he wasn't _actually_ interested in anyone here, but he couldn't help but feel a little…disappointed? Dejected?

Well, whatever it was, it wasn't really important now.

"Kent," he said. "Kent Smith."

Over their shared channel, he heard Vayne stifle a laugh. Clark resisted the urge to look up and glare at him, keeping his smile fixed firmly on his face.

Twenty minutes into the mission, and so far, things were going remarkably smoothly. The four of them had all entered the building separately, except for Rei and Ayame, who had arrived as a couple. Vayne had set up shop at the bar, and Clark was currently wandering around, socializing and trying to keep Mordred visible out of the corner of his eye.

The sorcerer was present, and, aside from one nerve-wracking moment where he had looked right at Clark with narrowed eyes as if he was trying to remember something, didn't appear to have recognized them. At the moment, Mordred was moving smoothly from group to group, talking to guests, while Clark and Vayne tried to keep him in sight and Rei and Ayame looked for an opportunity to slip away.

At least, that had been the plan. But when Clark tried to glance in Rei and Ayame's direction to see how things were going, he couldn't help but notice that Ayame had collected a group of admirers all of her own. It wasn't entirely unexpected. Even with her dark hair and surrounded by all of these socialites, Ayame was still the most eye-catching girl in the room. Rei waited a few feet behind her, looking annoyed at this development, but Ayame's newfound popularity had afforded him some freedom of movement.

Nobody seemed to particularly care who he was. And since nobody was looking at him, he had _some_ ability to sneak around.

The girl he was talking to tripped as they walked, nearly spilling her champagne, and Clark helped her back up to her feet, taking the opportunity to hand her off to a concerned waiter and slipping back into the crowd, all while keeping up his 'charming' façade. His earpiece crackled to life as Vayne spoke.

" _You suck at coming up with aliases, man."_

Clark rolled his eyes, accepting a glass of something from a passing waiter and feigning taking a sip. Remembering Rei's warning, he didn't actually drink, but dumped about half of it into a nearby plant. He looked around the room again, fighting off a sudden wave of concern.

So far so good, but if Rei and Ayame couldn't find a way to slip away from the party soon, they were going to run out of time.

Early on, they had identified several 'Employees Only' areas, any one of which could lead to Mordred's office. Vayne, who was for the moment an employee, had managed to rule out those that led only to kitchens or other prep areas, which left one stairwell that led to the upper floors.

It was also guarded by two of the meanest, most gorilla-like men that Clark had ever seen, because of course it was.

He was just running through what he could do to distract the guards without compromising their position or getting thrown out of the party, when he heard Vayne take in a sharp breath from his end of the line. Forgetting himself, Clark looked up quickly, turning his head in the direction of the bar.

Mordred was gliding smoothly over to Vayne, a frown on his face as if he had just realized something. Clark felt his heart leap into his throat. Vayne stood there, watching Mordred approach with a half-cleaned glass in his hand, looking like a deer in the headlights.

" _You,"_ Mordred said, audible over the frequency that he and Vayne had been using. Clark tensed, calculating the distance between them, trying to figure out how fast he would need to run to make it to Vayne on time. Just as he was sinking down, ready to make a break for it, Mordred went on. _"You're not my usual bartender. Where is Jack?"_

Clark's knees sagged with relief. He sank back against the wall, letting out a sigh, and waved off the concerned look that a couple shot him as they passed by just out of the corner of his vision.

"Little too much to drink," he said with a smile, waving his glass. As they wandered off, he settled in to listen to the conversation, doing his best not to actually look in Vayne's direction.

" _Oh—um—,"_ Vayne froze, then seemed to recover quickly. _"I'm filling in. Jack's sick—really sick. Between you and me, uh, you know the buffet next door? Well…"_ He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. _"He had the sushi."_

There was a pause that seemed to stretch on for hours. Clark waited with bated breath, swirling his drink around in his glass and trying to look like he belonged there, while at the same time keeping an ear out for any sign of trouble. But when Mordred next spoke, he sounded…surprisingly concerned.

" _I've told him time and time again not to trust that place,"_ Mordred said. _"Awful management. Well, regardless, thank you for filling in. What did you say your name was?"_

" _Uh—Wayne,"_ said Vayne quickly.

This time, it was Clark's turn to repress a snicker.

" _I see. Well, keep up the good work,"_ Mordred said, about to turn away. He paused, just as Clark was starting to relax. _"By the way…Wayne. Have I seen you before?"_

Clark tensed again.

" _Uh—nope, can't say that you have,"_ said Vayne, almost a little too quickly. _"First time working here. I'm—uh—new in town, you know."_

" _Hmm…"_ said Mordred, and Clark could practically hear the thoughtful frown in his voice. _"…Yes, I suppose. Well, thank you again."_

This time, he did leave, disappearing back into the crowd. The relief was a visceral thing, and Clark sagged back against the wall, taking it in for a few long moments. When he felt like he could speak, he pressed his hand to his ear, making sure that Mordred wasn't looking, and turned away from the crowd.

"Wayne?" he asked, lowering his voice.

" _Shut it, Kent,"_ said Vayne in reply.

"Whatever you say, Batman."

He turned, about to slip back into the crowd, when something else caught his eye. A commotion by the front doors, where a man in his fifties was presently trying to gain entry into the casino, brandishing an invitation.

A man in his fifties…who also happened to be Spirit Albarn.

"Crap," Clark muttered under his breath. "Crap, crap, crap."

A pair of young women nearby looked up sharply from their conversation, giving him quizzical looks. Clark quickly gave them a nervous smile in reply, holding up his half-empty glass of champagne. "Spilled some on myself," he said, taking a step back. "Let me just—uh, which way was the restroom again?"

He handed off his glass to a perplexed looking waiter, disappearing into the men's room and quickly hiding himself in one of the stalls. He pressed his hand to his ear again, activating his microphone. "Code Red," he told the others. "Guys, Code Red."

There was a pause, during which he heard some shuffling around, particularly from Vayne who hadn't apparently turned his microphone off.

" _What the hell is that supposed to mean?"_ Rei asked, sounding annoyed.

"It _means_ ," Clark said, "that your grandfather and probably everyone else from the DWMA is about to burst in here and blow our whole plan into tiny little pieces."

Another pause. Clark thought the shuffling around sounded a little more frantic this time.

" _Cassie?"_ Rei asked.

" _I see him,"_ Cassie confirmed, sounding strained. _"He's outside. They're not letting him in."_

" _Okay, okay, I see him,_ " said Vayne. _"Everyone relax. This could be a good thing. Mordred's heading over there himself—oh, hey! I think those goons are moving away from the door!"_

" _We're not ready—,"_ Rei began.

"Who cares if you're not ready?" Clark asked, feeling a touch of panic. "You're going to have to go _now_. You think your _grandfather_ isn't going to notice you just because you look a little older?"

Silence from Rei's end. Clark waited for several very long seconds, during which he heard someone else step into the bathroom and start moving around.

When Rei's microphone came back on, it sounded a lot quieter wherever he was. _"Alright,"_ he said, his voice soft. _"We're gone."_

* * *

The stairwell was empty. Rather than bother with running up the stairs, Rei made use of the Cloak of Shadows, using Ayame's abilities to hoist himself to the very top of the stairs. Cassie had thrown off the illusion surrounding them the moment they slipped out of sight, and now the two of them had taken on their normal appearances again, with Rei dressed in a black shirt and fatigues that were easier to move around in than the suit he had been wearing earlier, and Ayame back to her usual, blue-haired self.

There were some advantages to having someone on your team who could see into alternate realities. Cassie had warned them that she had been able to glimpse realities where they had tried this mission and failed, mostly because they had triggered some of the warning spells that Mordred had placed around the stairwell. She hadn't been able to grasp all of the permutations, and as a result, hadn't been able to pinpoint all of the traps, but Rei had gotten around the obvious ones and was counting on his Soul Perception and the stealthiness that the Cloak of Shadows gave him to handle the rest.

Now, clinging to the ceiling near the darkest corner of the stairwell, stopped from falling only by the tines of the Cloak of Shadows, Rei tried to breathe, tried to slow his heart rate enough to concentrate and bring up the waves of awareness that his Soul Perception cast around him. The thing about magic was that it was just another product of one's soul wavelength, so if he searched hard enough—

—there. He could just barely make out the twists and turns of the net of magic that Mordred had placed around this stairwell, meant to catch any intruders like him. Even as he thought about it, he knew that he wasn't catching everything, that Mordred must have had some way to counter Soul Perception, but between what he could see and what Cassie had warned him about, there was a chance that he could accomplish this and get away.

It was a small, ridiculously thin chance, but it would have to be enough.

"In and out…" he muttered to himself, trying to stifle his fear. "Quiet as a shadow…"

" _Be careful,"_ Cassie warned him, his voice loud in her ear when compared to the silence of the stairwell. _"Your grandfather can't have been the only one here from the DWMA. It's too obvious…they knew Mordred would recognize him immediately. There has to be someone else."_

Rei nodded, heart-pounding. He had been expecting that, had been thinking it since the moment that Spirit Albarn showed up at the door, drawing everyone's attention. A part of him wondered why he had never planned for this, why he hadn't thought that the DWMA's professionals wouldn't be observant enough to notice the opportunity that he, a student, had picked up on.

But there would be time to scold himself later. For now, he had to get this done, or they would lose their one chance of finding Morgan first.

Nothing left to do but go for it. He gestured with one hand to catch Ayame's attention, then performed a set of complicated maneuvers with the Cloak of Shadows, slipping through and around Mordred's defenses and making for the set of doors at the top of the stairs.

* * *

The incident with Spirit was handled in only a few minutes.

Vayne watched from the bar, trying not to look too nervous, as Mordred made his way smoothly to the front door, his security guards trailing along behind him. He tried not to look at Rei and Ayame as they slipped away from the crowd, but couldn't help but risk a glance as they slipped through the doors, disappearing from sight. From the front door, Mordred exchanged a few quiet words, his expression never changing, and his security team closed ranks around him, dragging a protesting Spirit back out into the street. His heart pounded, and he drummed his fingers on the bar, wondering if Spirit was okay, but there wasn't much time to worry about that.

He had bigger problems. Mordred was coming _his way_.

Vayne cleared his throat, hoping against hope that his nervousness didn't show on his face. Mordred came to a stop in front of him, giving him that look again, as if he was trying to figure out where he had seen Vayne before. Vayne tried not to look too guilty as he handed a drink off to one of the patrons, wiping down the bar for what felt like the hundredth time.

"Everything alright, boss?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

Mordred blinked, and then his expression changed, growing slightly exasperated as he flicked his eyes toward the door. "Just the usual rabble," he said. "If you see that man again, don't let him in, regardless of what identification he shows you. He's a known cheater."

 _Yeah, I'll bet he is…_ Vayne thought, but all he said was. "If I see him, you'll be the first to know."

"Good man," said Mordred, fishing a folded up bill from his pocket and sliding it across the countertop towards Vayne. "For your trouble."

"Uh—thanks," said Vayne, picking up the bill.

"I'll be in my office if you need me," said Mordred, turning around and eyeing the crowd. Vayne thought he saw a hint of disdain in Mordred's expression before he walked off, with one last word reminding Vayne to 'see to their needs'. Vayne nodded dumbly, watching as Mordred walked away. He glanced down at the bill in his hand, his eyes growing round.

They quickly widened for a different reason as realization struck him, and he looked up at Mordred's retreating back with horror. Where was it that Mordred had said he would be? His office?

Vayne quickly turned away from the crowd, faking a coughing fit so that he could speak into his microphone.

"Uh—Rei?" he asked. "Ayame? Where _exactly_ are you guys right now?"

* * *

Mordred's office was an unmarked door at the end of a long hallway, on the outside not looking much different from all of the other doors along the hallway. Rei, with Ayame's guidance and using his Soul Perception to avoid any of the magical traps, managed to pick the lock, slipping in through the front door in the last second before a guard moved across the entrance of the hallway. He stood with his back to the closed door, breathing hard, his heart pounding.

The office wasn't large, which was almost a surprise to Rei, who assumed that Mordred would prefer a wide, open space. Shelves lined the walls, packed from floor to ceiling with books, and the dark carpet, coupled with a desk of polished, dark wood, gave the whole office a close, almost stuffy feel. There were none of the trappings of modern technology here, aside from a light switch that Rei ignored in favor of using his Soul Perception. The curtains had been drawn over the room's single high window, blocking out almost all light.

Magic crackled everywhere, and he had to cross the room in a zigzagging pattern to avoid tripping over any of the magic circles that lay there. When he finally made it to Mordred's desk, he raised his hand to his ear, activating his microphone.

"I need information, Cassie," he said.

" _Safe,"_ Cassie said. _"Under the desk. In most of the realities where you nearly succeeded, you found the safe."_

Rei wasn't sure he liked the sound of 'nearly succeeded', but he nodded, crouching down in front of the desk and feeling around with his fingers. One of the wooden panels beneath the desk drawer on the right side seemed to be loose, and he gripped one of the Cloak's kunai by the handle, using the blade's pointed tip to carefully pry the panel free. He worked quickly, aware not only of enemies all around them and the time ticking away but of the possibility of DWMA agents bursting in at this very moment and finding him crouching there, red-faced.

Every sound from outside made his heart jump, and it was a miracle to Rei that he managed to pry the panel free, leaning it against the desk with surprisingly steady hands and studying the safe in front of him.

The safe was surprisingly utilitarian, a block of black metal with an unadorned surface and a keypad that waited for the input of a four-digit passcode.

A passcode that Rei didn't know, that he had no idea how to even begin guessing. If they had had the opportunity, they would have tried something beforehand, but Cassie's powers came with two significant limitations—she could only see into realities that were sufficiently close enough to their own, and could only see things as they were happening, not what would happen in the future. In a handful of realities, he and his team had embarked on their mission a little bit earlier than they did now, and he had drawn what he could from that, but according to Cassie, 'most of the time' the mission happened on this date. During this party.

He muttered a curse under his breath.

" _I guess there's no chance it's his birthday?"_ Ayame asked from inside her soul space. Rei didn't answer, staring at the safe.

"Cass," he whispered instead. "What am I doing, in those other realities you're watching?"

" _Trying random numbers,"_ Cassie said from over the other end of the line.

"And how's that working out for me?"

" _Not well."_

Rei scowled, staring down at the safe. He tried to breathe, tried to control the pounding of his heart, but he still felt as though someone was about to burst into the office at any minute and find them there.

"Any where I'm close?" Rei asked.

" _A few…"_ said Cassie.

"Any where I survive?"

Cassie was silent for a long moment before she replied, _"Hopefully this one."_

He narrowed the focus of his Soul Perception to the safe, trying not to panic. The thing was loaded with magic, from alarm spells to defensive measures to spells that Rei couldn't even _begin_ to recognize. He had no doubt that if he put in the wrong combination, all of Mordred's goons would be on him in an instant. But he had no idea what the right combination would be, or what he could do next.

Hope that in some freakishly lucky alternate reality, he had stumbled upon the right combination on the first try? That seemed entirely too risky for Rei, and besides, a reality that far removed from his own might not even be something that Cassie would see. But he had to do something, and fast, or they were going to run out of time.

And then, as if things couldn't possibly get worse, Vayne's voice crackled over the line, sounding nervous.

" _Uh—Rei? Ayame? Where exactly are you guys right now?"_

Rei frowned, but raised his hand up to his ear, activating his microphone. "Mordred's office," he said. "Why?"

" _Yeah, that's what I was afraid of,"_ said Vayne. _"You have incoming."_

Rei shot a startled glance up towards the door. If Mordred was coming in, there was no way that Rei would be able to hide from him. To begin with, there was nowhere to hide. From what he could sense, the window was closed and locked behind him, and there was only one exit out of the room, the door that he had just come through. The door that opened up onto a long hallway that led straight to the stairs. The stairs that Mordred was probably climbing at this very moment.

He was screwed. Screwed, screwed, screwed. He could use the Cloak of Shadows to cling to a dark corner of the roof and hope that Mordred never turned the lights on, but…

" _Alright,"_ Ayame said in her soul space, sounding as if she had just made a decision. _"Guess we've got no choice."_

Before Rei could ask her what she meant, she transformed in a flash of light, landing soundlessly on the ground next to him. He could see her in the dark, from the faint light that came from the hallway outside, could feel her in the second sight of his Soul Perception as she straightened up, her eyes on the door.

"Ayame," Rei began, "What—?"

Ayame silenced him with a hand, her other on her earpiece. "Cass," Rei heard her ask. "Is there a reality where I look a little…different? Still me, but different looking? Not the same one that we used to get in—I'm going to need that to get _out_."

" _There's one where you're a boy,"_ Cassie said in reply.

"That'll do," said Ayame, with a grin. "Always wanted to know what I'd look like as a dude." She turned towards Rei. "I'll draw him off."

Rei blinked at her, surprised. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"It's the only way," said Ayame. "I'll do what I do best—catching people's attention—and you do what you do best—pulling off a miracle with the safe and getting the hell out of here without being seen. We'll meet back up on the floor."

"Ayame—," Rei began.

"I know," Ayame said, cutting him off. "I know you don't like it, but we don't have time to argue. We need to get moving."

Rei opened his mouth to protest, but he had nothing to say. She was right. They didn't have time to argue.

That didn't mean he had to like it.

"Be careful," he said instead.

"I'm always careful," said Ayame, turning towards the door. He saw her crouch down, as if getting ready to make a break for it, then she paused, almost hesitant. Her eyes flicked from the door to Rei and back again, as if she was having an argument with herself.

"Ayame?" Rei began, wondering if she was having second thoughts _now,_ of all times. "What—?"

Ayame surprised him.

Before he could get the words out, she moved, but not towards the door. She surged towards him, grabbing him by the shoulder and pressing her lips quickly to his.

Time stopped. His world narrowed to a point, his eyes widening in shock as his heart tried to break its way free of his chest. The kiss lasted hours or less than a second, Rei couldn't tell which, but either way it felt entirely too short as Ayame danced away from him, a slightly embarrassed grin on her face.

"For luck," she told him, giving him a wink before dashing out the door.

Rei stood there for a few long moments, feeling as though the inside of his mind had been turned to static. His senses were still full of the scent and warmth and feel of her. His lips tingled where they had touched hers, his mind still struggled to process what had just happened.

"… _Uh, Rei?"_ Cassie asked, sounding concerned.

Shouts sounded from outside, coming from the hallway. Someone laughed in a voice that was both Ayame's and not Ayame's, and he heard the sounds of fighting. The noise and Cassie's voice jolted him back into reality, reminding him of where he was and what he was supposed to do.

The safe.

He was supposed to find a way into the safe.

"Alright, Cass," he said, shaking his head and trying to dispel the sensations, trying to quiet the roaring of his heart. He crouched down in front of the safe, one hand on his earpiece. "We need to figure this out. Talk to me."


	39. Lady Luck Pt. 2; What Happens in Vegas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Regarding the kiss, I have been struggling and struggling for weeks to try and figure out how to write the moment you were all waiting for with Rei and Ayame, which isn't normally a problem for me with a pairing. I've written romantic first kisses time and time again, in the dead of night after a battle, in front of a sunset, on a rooftop, beneath the stars, but every time I tried to apply those tried and true formulae to Reiame, it just felt wrong somehow, like I wasn't being true to the characters. Rei and Ayame feel strongly for each other, but it's not (just) the slow sappy build-up of the usual romance novel team.
> 
> Then it hit me. Ayame isn't the type of character to even want a sappy first kiss like that. Ayame is a fighter and a thrill-seeker more than anything else. Ayame would want her first kiss to be in the middle of a battle, guns blazing, heart pounding, adrenaline in her veins and her partner by her side right before rushing off to do some madcap scheme with low chances of success or survival. So that's what I gave her. Hope you guys don't mind it too much…and seriously, we always knew Ayame would make the first move.

**CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT**

**Lady Luck Pt. 2; What Happens in Vegas**

* * *

Ayame raced away from Mordred's office, heart pounding for two entirely different reasons.

 _Alright,_ she thought, her eyes fixed on the door to the stairwell in front of her. _How are we going to do this?_

She could already sense herself beginning to change, an illusion overlaying her as Cassie worked her magic. There was no turning back from this point, not even if she wanted to. After all she had said, after what she had just done, she would die of embarrassment if she had to turn back and face Rei without seeing her task through. Which was all well and good, because Ayame didn't _want_ to turn back. Electricity and adrenaline crackled in her veins, a thrill coursing through her that made her grin in spite of herself. Ayame wasn't the most subtle of people, but she'd been holding herself back for a while, trusting Rei to make good choices and following along with his decisions. She had stuck to the plan because it was the _smart_ thing to do.

But now the night was wearing on. They were running out of _smart_ things to do. Which meant it was her time to shine.

It was time to make a scene.

With a grin on her face, Ayame launched herself the remaining few feet towards the door, crashing into it feet first.

It swung open with a loud _clang_ that might have been heard all the way back in Death City, the steel door reverberating against the wall and heralding her arrival. Ayame soared through the opening she created and had a split-second glimpse of Mordred standing on the stairs below her, staring up at her with wide eyes as if he was surprised that she had revealed herself so easily, as if he couldn't believe that anyone would have the _audacity_ to reveal themselves like that. It was an expression so at odds with the look of smug superiority he had worn that night in Rei's house that Ayame couldn't help it.

She laughed.

It was a loud, madcap laugh, coming straight from her belly, and it echoed in the narrow stairwell. The voice that left her chest was both hers and not, a slightly lower timbre than her usual high-pitched cackle, but she had a feeling that her friends would know who she was. She suddenly found herself wishing that this stairwell had a mirror, wondering what she must look like to Mordred.

Like her father, probably.

The laugh still hung in the air as she kicked off the far wall, just a few feet over his head. While Mordred was still standing there, stunned, she redirected the momentum of her fall, pointing herself at the ground through the gap between the winding stairs. As she fell headfirst towards the ground, she passed him, their eyes meeting for half a second as she plummeted.

Security would be waiting for her at the foot of the stairs. An army of goons, probably armed to the teeth. And Mordred would be following from above, a thousand-year-old sorcerer cloaked in powers beyond her imagining. On every front, she was outnumbered, and with the addition of Mordred, heavily outmatched.

Her dad would call those decent odds.

She flipped over in the air as she neared the ground, bending her knees to prepare for landing. And in the instant before she landed, she couldn't help herself. She looked back up at Mordred, head tilted towards him in challenge, a grin on her face.

"Catch me if you can!"

* * *

The lights flickered in the grand ballroom, drawing murmurs of alarm as people's eyes flicked upwards to the ceiling. Clark, standing near the blackjack table with a glass of something amber in his hand that he was carefully pretending to drink, glanced over at the bar, shooting Vayne a concerned look as something rumbled above them, the patrons near them whispering to each other in concern as their eyes also flicked towards the ceiling. To his left and right, he caught sight of members of Mordred's security raising hands to their ears, frowns on their faces as they attempted to subtly slip through the crowd and head towards the stairwell door.

The device in his ear crackled to life, and as Clark glanced over at the bar, he saw Vayne with a hand up to his ear, turned away from the crowd on the pretense of cleaning up a spill.

" _Rei? Ayame?"_ Vayne asked. _"What's going on? You guys okay?"_

" _Kinda busy at the moment,"_ said Rei, his voice sounding strained. _"Is it important?"_

" _Yeah—kind of,"_ said Vayne. _"Looks like all of Mordred's goons are heading your way. Something must have tipped them off."_

" _Yeah, that would be Ayame,"_ said Rei, not sounding surprised at all.

" _Ayame?"_ Vayne asked.

" _We'll be out of here soon,"_ Rei said, as if he hadn't heard. _"One way or another. Start looking for a way out."_

" _Roger that,"_ said Vayne. _"Come to think of it, security's kind of light on the floor. We could extract now."_

Rei grunted in response, as if to say that it was up to them, and then his line went dead. Before Vayne could speak more though, a different voice came onto their channel. Male—Clark jumped at that—but with a quality behind it that was unmistakably Ayame. She ( _he?!)_ sounded out of breath, as if she had been running.

" _No,"_ she said. _"Don't extract. Stay right there. I might need you to cover me."_

" _Ayame?!"_ Vayne asked. _"Is that you? Wait—what do you mean? What are you—?"_

There was another tremor, the chandelier above them rattling and causing concerned murmurs to erupt from the crowd around him. A young woman seated at the blackjack table started to stand, then swayed unsteadily. He caught her by the arm, carefully setting her back onto her feet with a smile and a nod. As she turned away, looking around the room in concern, he raised his glass to his lips, using the motion to hide his mouth as he started speaking.

"Understood," he said. "Do what you have to."

" _Owe you one!"_ Ayame said, sounding breathless. There was a desperate quality to her voice that might have made him more concerned, that might have made him want to rush towards her and make sure that she was alright, but there was something else in her tone that made him stop, that made his lips curl into a smile over the rim of his glass as he slowly lowered it again.

She was having fun.

* * *

Rei stared down at the safe, aware of his heart beating and his breath in his ears, aware of the shouts coming from outside and the tremors moving through the floor, aware of the sweat beading steadily across his brow and beneath his clothes. Each moment was a precious second lost, each moment brought them closer and closer to discovery, to destruction.

Them. All of them. Awareness crackled around him, and he could feel their presences around him as easily as if they were standing in the room with them, not the bright light of their souls or the steady pulse of wavelength that he could see and sense with his Soul Perception, but something else, a weight that settled over his shoulders as he stood there, staring at the safe that he had no hope of opening alone.

Responsibility, he thought.

He had brought them here. If things went badly, if they fell, he would only have himself to blame.

Doing his best to calm himself, to slow his breathing and his heart, he reached his hand up to the device in his ear, switching himself and Cassie to a private line.

"Any luck?" he asked, keeping his voice down. He spread out his Soul Perception to the space just beyond the door, waiting for the guard, but none came. Whatever Ayame was doing, he thought, listening to another distant thump, she must have been keeping them well and truly distracted.

" _Nothing."_ Cassie's voice sounded strained, as if she was struggling to lift something heavy. Five illusions, he knew, more than they had planned for her to maintain. And on top of it all, she was frantically scanning realities, looking for one in which he found the combination, looking for something that could get them out of here.

 _Time,_ he thought, clenching his fists. He could hear it in her voice—they were running out of time.

" _You're starting to dial down on it,"_ Cassie said, her voice a soft, far-off murmur as if she was half in danger of becoming a part of those other realities herself. _"The yous that are left anyway. The careless ones are all gone, so now you're starting to think. The address of the casino, the year in which Mordred first appeared in Arthurian mythology, the number of Knights of the Round Table twice over. The best guesses you have, but they're all wrong…"_

Silence. Rei stood there in the shadows, listening to the sounds of distant chaos, to the soft hum of music coming from the revelry below.

When Cassie spoke again, her voice was grim, her tone even more distant, as if she was floating.

" _You're running out of time…"_

"Don't you think I don't know that?" Rei muttered to himself, feeling his fingertips dig into his palm through his gloves. He stared down at the safe, feeling his heart pounding.

Best guesses.

Was that the only recourse left to them? To make their best guess in the hopes that they would be right somehow, that even if they were wrong, they might be bringing some reality, somewhere, some version of Rei closer to the truth?

He couldn't accept that. He couldn't imagine what Cassie was seeing, couldn't begin to fathom how many times she was watching him die, but it didn't matter. He wasn't that selfless. He wanted to win in _this_ reality.

His heart pounded, blood rushing through his ears. He tilted his head up, staring at the ceiling, trying to work past it, to work past the urge in his body and skin and every inch of him to just run, to forget about everything and everyone and hide.

 _Think, Rei_ , he told himself. _Think._

Thoughts raced past him, fragments of memory and feeling flitting through his mind, behind his eyes. Ayame, rushing out the door. Ayame's lips on his, a brief touch that set his skin ablaze. His decision on the rooftop, choosing to find Morgan. Waking up in the dispensary and finding out that his sisters were gone. Lying on the floor of the twins' room and watching Morgan leave. Time rushed backwards, honing in on that single point, that awful night, that singular memory.

Mordred, who up until that moment had been willing to kill Rei and Ayame both, who showed no remorse for anything he had ever done, who had been willing to hurt _children_ to fulfill his mission—Mordred had stopped for Morgan. And before, when Rei had encountered him for the first time, during that attack on Death City, hadn't he been trying to convince Morgan to come back of her own free will? He could have overpowered her, could have demanded that she return, but he hadn't. He could have killed Rei in front of her when he found them, but he hadn't.

Morgan.

His breath caught in his throat, and without speaking, he knelt down in front of the safe, pressing the keypad four times before he lost his nerve.

1113.

The light blinked red for one long, terrifying moment, then transitioned to green. The safe clicked open.

" _Oh…"_ Cassie said in his ear, sounding breathless. _"Something's changed. Rei…what did you do?"_

"Opened the safe," Rei muttered under his breath, feeling numb. He reached into it with nerveless fingers, moving past the money and jewelry inside and reaching for a large, folded up sheet of paper. He opened it and glanced down at it, using his cellphone as a flashlight.

Flight plans, exactly what they needed. Afraid to breathe, or to do anything that might shatter this illusion or bring the guards rushing into this room, he quickly snapped several photos with his cellphone, then shoved the plans back into the safe and shut the door.

"… _What was the combination?"_ Cassie asked as he pulled himself up along one of the shelves, fiddling with the grate to an air vent that he had noticed in the ceiling.

"1113," Rei said, around a mouthful of screws. He hoisted himself up, shimmying into the air vent and swinging the grate closed behind him.

November 13. The day that Morgan was born.

Cassie went silent at that, not saying anything more. Rei raised his hand to his ear, shifting himself back onto the general frequency.

"I'm out," he said, and his voice sounded like it was coming from someone else, a stranger. He wondered if it was the adrenaline that was making him feel this way, the sheer disbelief that he had made it out in one piece. "Ayame, try and get out of whatever you're doing. I'll meet you down on the floor. Clark and Vayne, you know what to do."

" _Roger that,"_ Ayame said a moment later, sounding breathless. Clark and Vayne didn't reply, but he thought he heard a sigh of relief. Rei shut off his microphone, beginning his long, slow crawl through the vents.

* * *

The path back down to the ground floor through the ventilation shaft was narrow and harrowing, and Rei, who had expected to have Ayame's help to work through the most difficult of the drops, felt his heart leap into his throat at the experience. He managed somehow, following the sound of music, but by the time he reached a vent that let out into the party, he was a nervous wreck. He kept one ear trained on the chaos above him the entire time, sure that at any moment they would discover the ruse and the break-in in Mordred's office, but luck was with him. It seemed like for the most part, Mordred's security had been mostly concerned about Ayame.

The possibility of a second DWMA team already inside the establishment crossed his mind and he wondered if his group had already been discovered by them or if the second team was taking advantage of the same chaos that he was, using it to get what they needed. This whole plan was balanced precariously on a knife-edge, and it wouldn't take much more than a breath to send everything crashing down around him. He wondered, not for the first time, what on earth he was doing, how he had gotten tricked into this, but it was too late for second thoughts now.

Propping himself up on his elbows, he shimmied over to the mouth of the vent and peered through the grate at the party on the floor, still going on as if nothing untoward had happened. There were a few concerned glances at the ceiling, but for the most part, it seemed like Mordred and his crew had kept the chaos expertly contained. He felt a bit of grudging respect for them as his eyes swept over the group, looking for Ayame.

She appeared suddenly, like a flash of light, and when she did it was impossible to miss her. First, the door to the stairwell burst open, and a blue-haired boy emerged from the shadows, shoving people aside and darting into the crowd amid alarmed shouts and screams. Security poured into the room after him, filtering into the crowd, but Rei saw Ayame dart behind a pillar and emerge, on the other side, as the black-haired woman in the shimmering red dress who had arrived at the casino on his arm a few minutes earlier.

She was out of breath, a shimmer of sweat across her skin, but in appearance, she was so far removed from the boy that had ducked behind the pillar that the security guards moved past her without giving her a second glance. He placed a hand on the grate, about to loosen it and join her, when a sharp voice in his ear stopped him.

" _No!"_ Cassie said, sounding strained. When he froze in place, he heard her take several shallow breaths. _"I'm spent. I can't handle another illusion. You'll have to leave separately, and soon."_ She didn't say 'please', but it was implied. He heard the desperation in her tone. Rei nodded, drawing his hand back from the grate and raising it to his ear.

"Ayame, I'm here, but Cassie's drained," he said, keeping his voice down. "You'll have to get out separately."

He saw Ayame tense as his message reached her, but she didn't reply, instead lowering her head and nodding twice. He saw her look around the room, eyes darting from left to right as she looked for an excuse to leave that wouldn't tip off the security that now clustered around the door, still watching for the intruder. Her eyes landed on Clark standing a few feet away, happily regaling a group of brightly dressed ladies with some story or another.

Ayame strode towards him, an angry set to her shoulders. When she reached him, she grabbed the glass out of his hand as he blinked at her, startled, and proceeded to dump it over his head.

Conversation slowed to a standstill as the ladies around Clark gasped, people's heads turning towards her. "I don't believe you!" she screeched. "Here you are, with someone like _me_ , and all you care about is talking to other girls! How do you think I'm supposed to feel, huh? What is _wrong_ with you?"

A murmur of agreement moved through the crowd, a few people hiding laughs behind their hands. Rei realized with some dismay that the crowd around Ayame was completely buying the story, as if they had completely forgotten that she had walked in with him. He knew that next to Ayame he was more or less unnoticeable, but somehow, seeing it in action still stung.

Clark blinked at her, bewildered. "But—," he began. "B-But—."

"Don't 'but' me, _Kent_!" Ayame said, her voice rising in pitch another octave. "It's over, you hear me? _Over_! Don't bother to call!" She glanced at the girls around him, her eyes darkening. "Have a nice night."

The crowd parted for her as she strode from the room, heading for the exit. It closed ranks behind her, the ones nearest to Clark looking at him with expressions of sympathy as he stared after her, crestfallen. Rei noticed the girls around him slowly edging away, melting back out into the crowd. Someone patted him on the back, someone else handed him a handkerchief. Multiple people laughed, a low murmur of mirth moving through the room.

Nobody looked twice at Ayame as she stormed out the door.

* * *

"She dumped me," Clark muttered to himself, staring at the bar in disbelief and clutching a glass of water to himself. Vayne watched him, frowning in what he hoped was a sympathetic way. He patted the air around Clark.

"There, there," he said, wiping the glass next to him.

"I can't believe she dumped me," Clark said, still looking shell-shocked. He lowered his gaze to the countertop, shaking his head as one of his hands reached beneath his glasses to rub at his eyes. "I thought she was the one, Wayne. I thought we had a future together…"

Vayne frowned at him, setting down the glass and reaching for another one. He looked around at the crowd, then lowered his voice. "Dude, you know you two weren't actually dating, right?" he asked.

"We were for a second, and then we weren't," Clark groaned. "Is it so hard to mourn what might have been?"

 _Considering it's Ayame we're talking about, probably,_ Vayne thought, but didn't say anything. Instead, he looked around the room, studying the crowd and trying to find a way to exit. The watch he was wearing had buzzed twice already, a sign that they were running out of time. All around him, the crowd had gone back to the usual business of drinking and gambling, but Vayne noticed a few people still watching Clark with looks of concern as they passed him, a few murmuring in sympathy.

He looked back at Clark, weighing his options. Mordred still hadn't appeared, apparently dealing with another disturbance, and he didn't much like his chances of making a clean getaway if the boss was on the floor. And Cassie's time was running out. The last time she had checked in with him, she had sounded as though she was barely holding on.

Nothing else to do but go for it, then. Vayne drew in a breath, then walked around the bar towards Clark, crouching down next to him and placing Clark's arm around his shoulders. When Clark tensed, turning towards him in alarm, Vayne muttered "Play along," under his breath. Louder, so that the crowd could hear him, he said, "Alright, buddy, I think you've had enough. Time to get you home."

Clark slumped against him as Vayne stood up, his head hanging, but whether he was acting or actually depressed was anyone's guess. Vayne groaned against the weight but managed to stand, wrapping an arm around Clark's waist to steady him as Clark's arm swayed, limp.

"Come on, bud," he said. "Not much farther."

"She dumped me…" Clark murmured. "She actually dumped me…"

"Yeah, yeah," Vayne said, starting to walk. "I know." He shot the crowd around him a reassuring smile, and they smiled back, knowing smirks on their faces as Vayne edged Clark around the bar, towards the back door that led into the kitchens. Cooks and waiters moved aside, none of them moving to stop him as he made for the back entrance.

Near the exit, a young man in a bartender's outfit was doubled over towards a bucket, being violently sick. Vayne paused to glance at him as he came up for air, taking in the man's pale face and the way his arms were wrapped tightly around his stomach. "Hanging in there, Jack?" he asked.

"Yeah," Jack groaned, giving Vayne an exhausted look. "Thanks, man."

"Anytime."

He edged Clark past Jack as the other man bent down over the bucket again, feeling a pang of pity for what would happen to him when 'Wayne the bartender' failed to return, then moved Clark around the corner towards the rendezvous point. Once they were out of sight of the casino, Vayne paused, loosening his hold on Clark.

"Alright, you can walk on your own now," he said, but Clark still swayed against him, sniffling.

"I can't believe it's actually over," he muttered under his breath. "How could she do that to me, Vayne, how?"

"Oh, for the love of—will you give it a _rest_?" Vayne asked, shoving Clark away from him. "You were _not_ dating Ayame, Clark. It was all an act. Snap out of it!"

Clark blinked at him, and then slowly his eyes started to clear, a little bit of sanity returning to his expression. He shook his head, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "I—you're right, Vayne," he said. "You're right. Sorry. I don't know what came over me."

"It's fine," Vayne muttered, rolling his eyes. "Just make sure it doesn't come over you again." He raised his hand to his ear, turning his microphone on. "We're good, Cass. You can drop the mask."

Cassie let out what sounded like a sigh of relief, and then the illusion around him and Clark dropped away, leaving them as their younger selves again. They were still too close to the Round Table for Vayne's liking, so he grabbed Clark around the upper arm, pulling him into the streets behind him until he reached the meeting point. The whole time, he listened for the sound of pursuit behind him, but none came. If they hurried, if all went well, they could make it back to Death City tonight, with none the wiser. He hoped that Rei and Ayame had been as successful as they had been and had managed to get away cleanly as well, or all of this was about to become a lot more complicated.

And he hoped that Clark hadn't _actually_ drunk anything, because he was their driver.

* * *

Micah Cole wasn't a fan of babysitting.

He had done it enough during his time at the DWMA, looking after younger students, and he didn't particularly like it. He didn't like it now, with Mordred asking him to look after his niece, but he did it anyway because it wasn't really in Mordred's nature to ask for _anything_. He didn't even mind it really. Morgan Fay kept to herself, and had hardly left her tower room since her uncle's departure.

What he didn't like was having to babysit Elaine.

The worst part of it was that it wasn't as though anyone had asked him to do this. In fact, Mordred had warned him away from her enough times, once it was clear that his meager medical knowledge couldn't really do anything for her. But for some reason, he found himself here time and time again.

It was her soul, he mused, as he looked up from his seat at her bedside, marking his place in the book he was reading with a finger. He could see the way it hung in her chest, still pulsing with a faint light. It was still tethered to her body, still encased by her flesh, so he knew from that that she was alive, but it didn't seem like life. There _had_ been a life in her for a moment, when she had returned home, when she collapsed on the floor calling for her son, but whatever life had existed then was gone now, possibly forever.

Her soul looked like something caught between the living and the dead. An undead soul, and not even undead in the same way that Sid was. With Sid, it was his body that had died, whereas his soul continued to live on, alive, strong, and everything it had once been. Elaine was something else entirely.

It was like her body was still alive, like it went through the motions of life, but her soul was dead.

An empty husk, except for the moment that she hadn't been.

It was a mystery. What had made her awaken then? What power had brought her soul back to life?

"Who were you fighting?" Micah asked, his voice soft, but incongruously loud in the quiet of the room. "Who did this to you?"

He was sure that the key to understanding this mystery was there. If she would only wake up and tell him, he might be able to understand. His eyes moved across the space where her injuries, now healed, had been. An open would from shoulder to waist. A wide slash.

In theory, it could have been anyone. But now that he was thinking about it, there was only one person who made sense.

Maka-sensei.

The Anti-Magic Wavelength.

A thrill ran through him as he sat there, the pieces of the puzzle coming together. If her soul wasn't dead, if it was only buried beneath her power, then—

—Then that made sense. Then _everything_ was starting to make sense. There was no mystery here, nothing that couldn't be understood. Once again, the order of the universe had reinstated itself.

He stood up, his chair scraping against the tiles and making a sound like the wind rustling through the trees. He had his answer, and there was no point in him being here anymore. He had to head back up to the library, to read, to think, to decide what he should do with this information, if anything. There was no point in him being here. She wouldn't wake.

He had just turned away from her, just started to head towards the door, when Elaine opened her eyes.

* * *

**Omake**

"And then once I fought off those guards, I came back around to make sure Angela and Shelley made it into the building," said Spirit Albarn with a grin, leaning back against the couch behind him. "They didn't recognize me then, of course."

"Wow, Death Scythe-san, you're so brave," said Risa on one of his arms, cooing at him from inside the darkness of Chupa Cabra.

"So awesome," Arisa echoed from the other side of him, letting out a breathy giggle. "And all that after being retired?"

"They asked for me specifically," Spirit said, puffing up his chest and preening under the attention. He feigned a sigh of exasperation, slumping back onto the couch. "I guess they just can't do anything without me."

"Is that so?" Risa asked, leaning closer to him. "I guess your granddaughters are as good as rescued, then."

Spirit went tense at that, his eyes widening. Across from Risa, Arisa looked up, shooting the other girl a warning glance.

"Don't say things like that," she said. "You know Death Scythe-san is still upset about what happened."

"Hmm?" asked Risa, before her eyes widened in realization. "Oh, that's right! You were here the night your granddaughters were kidnapped, weren't you?"

Spirit paled from between them, his eyes on the door.

"What was that you said?" Arisa asked, tilting her head back as she tried to remember. "You said that your daughter wanted you to babysit them, but you said no because your grandson was old enough? Is that right?"

Spirit was sweating now, his mouth hanging open.

"You must feel so _awful_ ," Risa said. "I bet if you were there, nothing would have happened, Death Scythe-san."

"I'm sorry!" Spirit yelled suddenly, bolting upright. He ran towards the door, kicking up a trail of dust behind him. "Annie! Cori! My precious, beloved granddaughters, don't worry! Grandpa's coming to save you!"

His shouts faded away into the distance as he ran, leaving Risa and Arisa blinking in their seats behind him.


	40. All the Stars in the Sky

**CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE**

**All the Stars in the Sky**

* * *

Rei didn't breathe properly until they were well into the desert, Las Vegas nothing more than a haze of light on the horizon behind them. Only then did he let out the breath he was holding, sagging back into his seat up front next to the driver. For his part, Clark drove steadily and carefully, holding his breath each time they passed someone who might have been a policeman. On the way up here, Cassie had given Clark the appearance of his older self, but she was too tired now, curled up in a blanket in the back seat with her head resting against the window. There was nothing to do but hope that the darkness and the desert would hide them on their way back into Death City.

From somewhere behind him, he heard Ayame let out a little sigh of relief as well, leaning back into her own seat. The sound of her voice sent a shiver up his spine, heat rising to his face as he remembered what had happened in Mordred's office. He shook his head hard to clear it, ignoring Clark's concerned look as he reached for his phone. He had things to do now. He could worry about that later.

Later. When they got back into Death City, and Clark dropped them off at the apartment that he shared with Ayame. Alone.

Rei swallowed hard, doing his best not to think about that at the moment. He held his phone up, scrolling to the pictures he had taken as they rolled down the highway. It was a map of the world, with routes mapped out over it that he could only assume were the flight plans for Fata Morgana, considering that one of the points listed on it had been off the coast of Madagascar, and the date listed next to it had been the same day that Rei's sisters were kidnapped, not too long ago. He quickly scrolled past that point, looking for dates that had been listed in the future. It looked like the castle was moving steadily northward, and in a few days, it would be accessible from the Hill of Tara, in Ireland. It would hover over the hill for a day or two, before starting off on a western course that would put it over North America.

The weight of the information that he was holding in his hands struck him. With this information, there would be no need for any blind guesses, no need for the DWMA to wait for the Morrigan to reveal herself. With information like this, they could go to her, launch a full-scale attack on the castle. They could get his sisters back.

And capture Morgan.

The thought of Morgan being treated as a criminal, being locked up in the DWMA's dungeons before being sent off to the Witch Assembly, struck him cold. Wasn't that exactly what he had wanted to _avoid_ by doing this in the first place? But they couldn't assault the castle on their own. They couldn't even plan out a strategy without risking that the Morrigan would overhear everything. And without a strategy, without a clear plan, it would be suicidal to even try.

He gripped his phone tighter, scowling at it as if it would tell him the answers

"Something on your mind?" Clark asked, glancing over at him as they rolled down an empty road, the truck rattling somewhat with the motion.

Rei sighed, slipping his phone back into his pocket. He didn't answer him immediately, leaning back against his seat and looking up at the sky from the windshield. This far out in the desert, the stars were striking, a multitude of bright points of light.

The sight of the stars only served to remind him of _her_. Rei looked up at them, his mind going back to that moment in Mordred's office, to the feel, brief, fleeting, of Ayame's lips on his.

"Lots of things," he admitted, not elaborating. Behind him, Ayame didn't ask him to elaborate, the silence from the backseat louder than words.

"We got what we came for, didn't we?" Vayne asked, keeping his voice soft for Cassie's sake as they sped down the highway towards Death City.

Rei frowned, feeling the weight of his phone in his pocket as he studied the stars, his eyes shifting to the dark swath of the horizon ahead of them.

"Let's hope so," he said.

* * *

Rei watched as the truck rolled away from his and Ayame's apartments, his eyes on the bright cone of light produced by the headlights until the truck turned the corner, vanishing from sight. He closed his eyes, letting out a tired sigh as he slumped against the doorframe. His eyes felt dry and papery beneath his eyelids, and a bone-deep exhaustion was starting to spread through his body, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep. Once he turned around, Ayame would be there.

As exhausted as they both were, there were some things that just couldn't wait until morning. He drew in a deep breath, gathering his courage, and turned around.

She was standing in the living room, leaning against the back of an armchair. When she noticed him turning to face her, she looked away, a bright flush spreading across her cheeks. Her arms were folded across her middle, the fingers of one hand drumming a steady rhythm across one of them. The duffel bags from their trip were still lying on the floor on either side of her, discarded when she had walked in.

A weighty silence descended over the room as Rei closed the door behind him, turning to face her.

"So…" he began, raising his hand to the back of his neck. "Uh…"

"Yeah," Ayame said. "So."

She let out a long sigh, her eyes still on the floor, then seemed to straighten up from sheer force of will, shaking her hands out at her sides and raising her head to meet his eyes. Her expression was determined, as if she were getting ready for battle, and Rei took a half step back in spite of himself.

"I like you," Ayame said, almost angrily, as if this was somehow his fault. "I've liked you for a while. Do you like me?"

"Well, when you put it so bluntly…" Rei muttered, looking down at the ground as he grasped for the words. Ayame turned away with a huff, folding her arms again.

"It's okay if the answer is no," she said. "I kinda had a feeling…I just—Back then, I couldn't leave without doing something. In case something happened—to either of us—in case I never got the chance. That's all."

"Look," Rei began, scratching the back of his head. "I'm just—." He paused as something in Ayame's words struck him, looking up at her sharply. "Wait, what do you mean you had a feeling? You thought I didn't like you?"

"Well, you weren't taking any hints, so I just kind of figured—."

"Hints?" Rei asked, incredulous. "There were _hints_? How long has—okay, you know what, never mind. Just—just give me a minute." He ran a hand through his hair as he looked away from her, his thoughts racing in time to the beat of his heart.

"Wait, so you _do_ like me?" Ayame asked, blinking up at him.

"Of course I do!" Rei said, blurting the words out without thinking as he spun back towards her. "I just—when you ask like that, I don't really know what to say. And I'm tired, and I have a lot on my mind, so—so…"

His mouth caught up with his brain then, and he looked away, all the heat rising to his face as he realized what he had just said.

Ayame could be quiet when she wanted to be, and he didn't notice that she was moving towards him until he raised his eyes and she was right in front of him, until her hand reached up, fingertips lightly brushing his shoulder. Her eyes were violet and wide, wide enough to get lost in. He froze as he looked into them, torn between leaping back and moving closer.

The look she was giving him was one part disbelief, one part something that he couldn't name, something that made sparks race just beneath his skin, a sensation that was equal parts thrilling and terrifying. He didn't know what to make of it, didn't know what to say, so he continued to stare at her, his mouth half-open on the first syllable of a word he had forgotten.

"You really do?" Ayame asked, her voice somewhat hushed. "You're not lying, not just trying to make me feel better? You really do care about me…like…like that?"

Her face flushed, and she dropped her gaze. The sight freed the words inside of him, giving him a little bit of courage, the knowledge that he wasn't the only one affected, the only one who felt a little scared.

Rei drew in a breath and let it out.

"Of course I do, Ayame…" he said. "You're…"

_Incredible. Amazing. Beautiful._

"You're my partner."

A flush spread over Ayame's face at the word, her grip tightening on his shoulder to the point where it was almost painful. Rei swallowed the last of his fear, reaching a hand up and letting it rest on top of hers, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath his fingertips. The touch seemed to relax her, and she exhaled, loosening her grip, letting his fingers thread through hers in a way that made something in his stomach leap.

Warmth spread through him like liquid fire, her warmth, and he was suddenly consumed by the urge to kiss her again.

So he did.

He felt Ayame's sudden intake of breath against his lips as he leaned in to kiss her, heart pounding in his ears. The kiss was tentative, uncertain, but just as he was starting to pull back, Ayame's free arm snaked around his back, pulling him against her. The world shrank around him again until it was just the two of them, until it was just her and him and the beating of their hearts and the way her Soul Wavelength brushed against his. He lost himself in the feeling, his mind absently tracing the lines and connections that had brought them to this moment.

The stag's face flashed into his mind for an instant, framed in the backdrop of the grass field that had been the inside of Ayame's mind, golden eyes gleaming.

And suddenly Rei understood what he was going to do.

* * *

Quoth was perched on the windowsill of her tower room, black eyes fixed on her from where she sat at her desk. The window had been opened a crack, just enough to let the air in and give the oversized raven the freedom he needed to open the window fully if he wished to take to the air, but closed enough that Morgan could study without having to fight against the breeze generated by their flight.

Not that she was getting much studying done. She flipped the page of the book she was reading, but barely absorbed the words, her mind somewhere else entirely as she occasionally glanced down, looking at the small hand mirror concealed in her palm. The mirror that, just now, was showing a bird's eye view of an apartment in Death City, a window that had been closed for two days.

 _Come on, Vayne…_ she thought to herself, returning her eyes back to the page in case her grandmother was watching. _Where did you go?_

With a sinking feeling, Morgan thought that she knew. Because of course he would come after her. Of course he would find a way to get involved in all of this, even though she had specifically told him not to. Of course he would do that. Why would she think that he would do anything else? Why would she think that any of them would?

The knot in her chest tightened, her eyes misting over as she gripped the mirror harder. She was angry and happy all at once, a combination that was too much to bear, and she almost hated them for it. Hope was cruel. It would have been easier for her, easier for all of them, if they had just left her alone.

Quoth looked up sharply from his preening, a single, harsh caw escaping him. Morgan quickly straightened up, pocketing the mirror in the moment it took the door to her tower room to open, the moment it took Quoth to take flight, finding purchase somewhere in the rafters as Mordred stepped into her room, leaving the door partly open behind him.

Morgan took a deep breath and hoped that her thoughts didn't appear on her face, hoped that she didn't look as flustered as she felt, but if she did then Mordred didn't seem to notice. That in itself was worrying—it told her that her uncle had a lot more on his mind.

"You're back," said Morgan. "When did you return?"

"A few minutes ago," said Mordred, moving towards the foot of her bed. He hesitated before reaching it, and in that hesitation, Morgan saw the extent of the distance that had opened up between them.

There had been a time when they had been close, before all of the distrust and all of the hate, before all of _this_. She had only been a child then, hadn't known much better, but she was surprised by the loss she felt for that closeness, for those times. She supposed that no matter what else might have happened between them, family was family.

"Would you like to have a seat, Uncle?" she asked, speaking through a knot in her throat.

Mordred nodded, taking a seat at the foot of her bed without a word, and for an instant, she was a child again, sitting at her desk in this tower room and showing him something that she had read. For an instant, he was just her uncle, her guardian and protector, and he hadn't kidnapped her friend's sisters, hadn't threatened the lives of the people she cared about, wasn't actively working to destroy the world that she loved.

Reality, when it returned, was painful, and she looked away. The question was burning in the back of her mind again. She could feel it at the back of her throat, on the tip of her tongue.

_What really happened to my mother?_

As if he sensed the rift between them, Mordred didn't speak for long moments, allowing Morgan to flip the pages of her book and pretend to read. When he did speak, his words sounded rehearsed, stilted, as if he were acting out a parody of concern.

"Micah mentioned that you've been spending all of your time up here…"

"You told me to stay out of trouble," Morgan said, and in spite of herself, she was unable to stop the wry smile from coming onto her face.

"I did," Mordred agreed. "You've never listened to me before."

There was an echo of her smile on his face, and for a second the tension between them eased.

"I didn't have much else to do, so I thought I'd go back to my studies," Morgan said, gesturing at the books she had taken up with her. "There's a lot about magic I never learned."

"Merlin's theories?" Mordred asked, gesturing at the dusty tome that she was currently picking through. "Dry reading, even on a good day. If I'd known you were going to be so studious, I might have prepared an assessment."

"I—." Her eyes flicked back to the books, her breath catching unexpectedly on the words. The mirror in her pocket was like a lead weight, dragging her down. "I was actually hoping to ask you some questions. I'm not sure I'm clear on the concept of fundamental energies. While we're heading towards Tara, I thought, maybe…"

_That you'd teach me. That for a little while longer, we can go back to being family again._

She hadn't been thinking that until now, but now that the words had left her mouth, she wanted it more than anything.

Mordred looked up at her, and she saw in his eyes that he wanted that too, and saw in them the exact moment when he refused, the moment when his expression changed and he refused to hold her gaze.

"My apologies," he said. "There were certain…complications in Vegas that concern me, and entirely too many things to prepare for. Perhaps when all of this is over, we can resume your lessons."

_We can never go back. Things will never be the same between us again._

It didn't matter what happened between the Morrigan and the DWMA. It didn't matter how this would end. One way or another, it would end with the two of them never being able to look each other in the eye.

"I understand," she said, turning back towards her reading. "Thank you for stopping by."

She heard him get to his feet, heard him walk back towards her door. When the heavy, wooden door creaked open, she looked back over her shoulder at him, the question burning on her tongue.

But he was gone then, nothing but darkness where he had been.

* * *

"Unfortunately, we weren't able to find as much as we would have liked," Angela said, her hands clasped behind her as she faced Shinigami's desk.

The comforting warmth of her spell filled the air around her, light pulsing through the web of magic that kept their words inside this room and away from the Morrigan's ears. She kept part of her attention on it as she spoke, the act of focusing on the spell taking her mind off of their failure at the casino, off of the embarrassed flush slowly beginning to spread its way over her face.

"There was a disturbance inside the casino," she continued, her eyes on the papers strewn over the top of Shinigami's desk and not on Shinigami himself. "Something that put Mordred's guards on high alert. Whatever it was, it was making it difficult to get around without being noticed. Mordred was starting to cast detection spells, so we decided to extract while we could."

It had been a sensible course of action at the time. There was too much risk of getting caught. With a sorcerer of Mordred's caliber, even invisibility wasn't a strong enough guarantee to avoid detection, and they were balanced on a knife edge at this point. There was no telling what the capture of someone like Angela, someone like Shelley, might have done to the balance. It might have forced Mordred and the Morrigan to tip their hand too early, giving the DWMA the advantage, or it might have done the exact opposite. There were too many variables, too many unknowns. They had done the right thing, but still, telling the story burned.

"Mordred was already suspicious of the DWMA's involvement," said Shelley, standing stoically beside her. "We expected that of course, given our choice to use Spirit Albarn as a distraction, and even planned for it. But it's likely that as soon as the third party interfered, Mordred suspected that the DWMA would send Angela and myself. We had no choice but to leave."

Shinigami's expression was unreadable from behind his steepled fingers. He didn't look directly at Angela or Shelley as they spoke, instead keeping his gaze fixed on a point between them, on the false blue sky of the Death Room's walls and ceilings. Angela waited for him to speak and tried not to look so nervous, tried to feel less like a child who was on the verge of being scolded.

It had been such a simple plan, practically foolproof. Mordred would have been expecting some sort of infiltration by the DWMA, would have been prepared for it. So they sent him something obvious, something that he could easily catch and stop in the form of Spirit Albarn. And while Mordred and his men were focused on dealing with Spirit, Angela and Shelley had the opportunity to sneak in, undetected and invisible. From there, all they had to do was find _something_ that would give them an idea as to the Morrigan's plans, or the Fata Morgana's next location.

The plan had been almost laughably simple. And like most simple plans, it had of course gone terribly wrong.

When he did speak, she was almost relieved that he didn't address their actions directly.

"I see," he said. "And the third party? Do we have any idea who they were?"

"No, sir," she admitted, her eyes still lowered.

Shinigami's shoulders slumped, a soft sigh escaping him. "So we really have no information at all," he said.

"No, sir," Angela repeated, feeling her face heat up.

"I have information."

The voice came from behind her, making Angela look up. For an instant, she thought that the voice had belonged to Soul Eater, to the other Death Scythe, but it wasn't Soul that she saw standing at the edge of the guillotine-lined hallway that led to and from the Death Room, watching them.

It was Rei.

Shinigami blinked in surprise, turning towards him with wide eyes. It took Angela a moment before she realized that she was doing the same.

"Rei?" Shinigami asked. "What are you doing here? This is a private meeting—."

The boy didn't respond, didn't even pause to make an apology. Instead, he stepped forward, walking past Angela and Shelley as he made his way over to the desk. He was dressed as if he had just come in from the field, not in the modified school uniform that she was used to seeing him in, but in a black shirt and a pair of dark colored fatigues that looked like the standard issue field uniform for the DWMA Intelligence Agency. When he reached into his pocket to pull out his phone, Angela leaned closer to get a better look before she could stop herself.

"I found this," Rei said, thumbing through several different displays before settling on a picture. He set the phone down face-up on Shinigami's desk, revealing a map. "It's the flight plans for Fata Morgana. The castle will hover over a certain location in two days. You can catch it then."

Shinigami reached for the phone with tentative hands, as if he didn't believe it was real. He turned the phone around to face him, leaning in close to get a better look at the plans. When he did, Angela saw him tense, saw his eyes narrow as he looked sharply up at Rei.

"Where did you get this?" he asked, his voice tight to the point of anger. " _How_ did you get this?"

"From Mordred's casino," Rei said. "The Round Table. From the safe in his office."

Something clicked in Angela's mind. "The third party," she said. "That was _you_?"

Rei's eyes moved towards her, his expression solemn but unapologetic. He didn't even try to deny it. "My team. We were looking for information like this."

"Why?" Shelley asked. "What for?"

"To find Morgan Fay."

Angela had expected that that would be his reason, but she had also expected him to lie, to attempt to hide it. The words, said so bluntly, were like a slap in the face.

Shinigami's eyes moved back towards Rei, narrowing dangerously. "What were you _thinking_?" he asked. "My orders were to not take any unauthorized action. Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? You could have gotten yourselves killed. You could have gotten _my_ team killed."

Rei said nothing, keeping his eyes fixed ahead of him. Shinigami scowled, his hands moving down to grip the edge of his desk.

"Do you have _anything_ to say for yourself, Rei?" Shinigami asked.

Rei inclined his head towards the phone on the desk between them. "It worked."

There was a scraping sound, Shinigami's chair as he pushed himself back away from the desk. Rei didn't react. Shelley turned towards Rei before the other man could get to his feet.

"But why turn yourself in?" she asked, the light reflecting off of her glasses. "If you have all this information, why are you here? Why aren't you going after your friend?"

"Because I'm not that stupid," he said, his voice soft. "Because I know I can't get into that castle on my own. Because this is information the DWMA needs to have, and because I'm still part of the DWMA."

There was a pause, a heavy, expectant silence filling the air. Angela looked back at Shinigami to see him still seated in his chair, hands gripping his knees as he scowled at Rei. When Rei didn't continue speaking, Shinigami prompted him.

"But?"

"My team gets to be on the airship," Rei said, meeting Shinigami's eyes.

Shinigami snorted, his eyes still fixed on Rei. "Like hell," he said, surprising her. "I'm not explaining that to your parents."

Rei shook his head, not backing down. Angela saw his hands clench into fists at his side, the only sign of nerves. "It's only fair," he said. "We found you this information. With luck, we'll keep away from the battle itself. We only want a twenty minute head start. If we find Morgan first, if we manage to convince her to stand down, to come back with us, she gets some leniency. You listen to _her_ side of the story before deciding anything."

Shinigami frowned at Rei, folding his arms across his chest. Some of the anger faded from his expression, replaced with a calculating look. "And if not?" he asked. "If you don't find her? Or if she turns against you?"

Rei shrugged, and Angela could see from the tension in his jaw how hard it was to keep himself calm. "What happens happens," he said, "If we can't find her, then that's our problem. You'll do what you have to. And if she did turn on us, if she _is_ on their side, then we have to be the ones to deal with it. It's only right."

"Hmm." Shinigami tilted his head back, studying Rei as if seeing him in a new light. "Five minutes."

"Ten," Rei said.

"Ten," Shinigami agreed, "And this conversation _isn't_ over. When everything's said and done, you're still in trouble."

"Agreed," Rei said, nodding.

Shinigami picked the phone off of the table, handing it back to Rei. "Say your goodbyes if you have them and get your things together. The airship is leaving in two days."

Rei nodded, slipping the phone back into his pocket. He offered Shinigami a polite bow before turning around to leave.

It was only when he had passed under the first of the guillotines that Angela saw him release a shuddering breath, saw his hands flex nervously at his sides, his shoulders slumping.

* * *

There were certain things, Micah thought, that had set him apart from his peers even from the beginning, certain qualities that he possessed that had assured that he would never be able to fall in line as easily as the other people around him had done, that he would never have been content with being one of the DWMA's followers. It hadn't been his intention to break away from the fold, and in the beginning he had been as loyal as anybody, but those traits had always been there, dictating his destiny. He wouldn't have been able to stop it, even if he had tried. His future had been written out for him from the day that he first stepped through the DWMA's doors, a sword hanging over his head that assured that his parting from the DWMA would not be a happy one.

One of those things had been a penchant for asking questions.

Not the way the Intelligence Agency did, though, and not even the way Professor Stein did. It wasn't in Micah's nature to ask questions _for_ people. Those questions, given to him by some external force or power, rarely interested him at all. He couldn't care less about the types of questions that would keep the DWMA secure, or that would allow the Research and Development team to create new tools or devices. The questions he liked to ask were more fundamental in nature, questions _about_ people, about the world.

The question that had undone him had been a simple question of 'why'. Why follow Shinigami? Why do what he said at all? What had Shinigami ever done for him to earn his loyalty?

From there, it had spiraled, taking on a life of its own, nagging at him day and night until he had been forced to take the steps that had changed his life forever.

The question he was asking now was just a simple question of 'how', so Micah doubted that the results would be quite so dramatic. Still, he had learned from the past to be cautious about seemingly-innocuous questions. Not cautious enough to avoid them, no, that would be like telling himself to stop breathing. But cautious enough that he could recognize that most of the time, he didn't truly understand how deep the rabbit holes he discovered were.

Which was fair, he thought, given the subject matter of his favored questions. But he was still fairly confident that he could answer the question of 'how do we bring Elaine Greysteil back to herself?' without dramatically changing his worldview. In many ways, it was a purely academic question. Even if he did have the key for unlocking Elaine's personality—which he was increasingly sure that he did—a cold-hearted, emotionally dead assassin was infinitely more valuable for their purposes than a broken-hearted mother pining for her lost son. But it would still be useful information to have, if only so it could never be turned against them. And perhaps when all of this was over, when the Morrigan succeeded in changing the world, he _could_ cure Elaine, although certainly it would be more of a kindness to let her stay the way she was.

At least, that was what he was telling himself now.

He gave Elaine a smile from over the book he was reading, another volume in the library's endless series of tomes centered on Soul Wavelengths, over the properties of the soul and over those wavelengths that manifested in unique ways. The book was quite dated, so it didn't name any specifics, but it did mention the possibility that certain wavelengths could overpower the soul that they came from, lacing it with madness or, in some cases, with nothing at all.

She didn't smile back, didn't do much more but stare straight ahead of her, her eyes fixed on a point just over his left shoulder. He didn't take it personally, turning his attention back to his books.

For all intents and purposes, Elaine was alive, but dead. Perfectly healthy, especially now that the Magatama had allowed her injuries to heal with little more than scars to show where the gash that Maka-sensei had left her had been, but with nothing inside.

As long as her powers were active, at any rate. As long as that wavelength continued to hum and buzz inside of her, covering her soul. If he was right, then her personality wasn't truly gone. It had just been dampened, a veil drawn over it by a power that she couldn't control. Her Paralyzing Wavelength had become so strong that it was paralyzing herself, and would continue to do so unless interrupted.

That was the key to his theory: 'unless interrupted'. If he was right, then Elaine's power _could_ be shut off, allowing her latent personality to reemerge. And if he was right, that was exactly what Maka-sensei had done to her, using an ability that she possessed, an ability that she was known for.

The Anti-Magic Wavelength.

That wavelength was the key to everything, and unfortunately, he didn't have it. Nor did Mordred, or Grayson, or Elaine herself, or anyone on their side of the equation. But there was someone in the castle who did, which meant that if he wanted to test out his theory, he was going to have to go to her.

It wasn't a course of action that the Morrigan would approve of, but there, Micah thought, was the danger to his asking questions. Because now that he had an answer, he wouldn't be able to rest until he knew for sure whether or not it was the right one.

He thought about it for a moment, but not for nearly long enough before he was already lifting his head, meeting Elaine's eyes.

"Elaine," he said, "What do you say we go visit the prisoners?"

He hadn't really been expecting her to respond.

So of course, it didn't bother him when she didn't.

* * *

**Omake**

"So…" Ayame said, over breakfast the next morning, while Rei was pouring milk into his cereal and trying not to meet her eye, still embarrassed from the events of last night. "I'm your 'partner', huh…?"

"It was the only thing I could think of to say," Rei said, plopping his bowl down onto the kitchen table and taking the seat across from her. His face reddened as he took a spoonful of cereal, stuffing it into his mouth. "It works for my parents anyway…"

"Huh. Mine too…" Ayame said, stirring her oatmeal with her spoon as her eyes drifted idly towards the window. After a while, she said, "I wonder if Clark and Vayne ever have this problem."

Rei snorted milk into his nose, coughing violently.


	41. Fata Morgana Pt. 1; Separation Anxiety

**CHAPTER FORTY**

**Fata Morgana Pt. 1; Separation Anxiety**

* * *

The airship burned its way steadily towards Ireland, rocking with the motion of the breeze. Rei stood alone in the center of an empty space in the airship's interior, feeling the motion of the ship beneath him. With his Soul Perception active around him, he could feel the wavelengths of his team spread out around the bridge, could feel Clark and Vayne pacing the upper walkways behind him, could feel Cassie curled up in one of the seats, Ayame on the deck outside, her face turned towards the breeze. Could feel both of his parents' stares burning holes in his back—although that probably had nothing to do with his Soul Perception.

He kept his eyes straight ahead of him, feeling sweat trickle down the back of his neck. He didn't dare look either to the left or to the right. If he looked to the left, he would see his father leaning against one of the airship's walls, his arms folded and a scowl on his face as he glared in Rei's direction. And if he looked to the right, the view was even worse. His mother's hair was practically standing on end, and the last time he looked, he could have sworn that her eyes were glowing.

The two of them, collectively, were even scarier than Shinigami. And that was saying something.

Rei swallowed hard, trying not to let his nervousness show on his face. Now wasn't the time to back down. He had taken a risk to get his team on his ship, and that risk had paid off. Now he had to follow through with it. It was naïve to assume that his actions wouldn't have had consequences, both within the DWMA and with his parents. But assuming everything worked out today, Rei would take the consequences.

If everything worked out today, he would have Morgan _and_ his sisters back. Once that was accomplished, his parents and Shinigami could throw him in the dungeons for all he cared. Everything else didn't matter, and it wasn't really worth thinking about.

Decisions. Choices. Risks. The words blurred together in his mind as he stepped forward, towards the doors that led to the outer deck. He could feel the words changing him with each step he took, echoes moving through him that chased his old self away. He stepped outside into the bright sunlight and the sunlight of his dream flashed through his mind, the grassy field occupied by the stag.

When the stag had asked him what he was, the night the house had been attacked, he'd claimed to be a ghost. At the time, it had even been true. But his actions in the Death Room two days ago had not been the actions of a ghost. He didn't know whose actions those were, but it didn't matter. He was changing, becoming someone else. More and more now, he could feel his mind shifting, his thoughts becoming less indifferent, more decisive.

He didn't know who he would be at the end of all of this, and that scared him more than it excited him. He had always known what his place in the world was, had never questioned it. Had never wanted that to change. Now that it was changing, Rei didn't know what to do, only that he couldn't go back.

He didn't think he would ever be able to go back again.

Rei reached the prow of the ship where Ayame was waiting, moving past Angela and feeling his Soul Perception fizzle out where it encountered the heavy net of her concealment spell. Ayame had her face toward the wind, her eyes fixed resolutely ahead, towards their destination. She never looked like she had second thoughts, about anything. Even in the most difficult of times, Ayame selected a course of action and followed it through.

It was one of the things he had always loved about her.

Her hand was closed on the railing in front of her. He let his hand cover hers, turning his eyes forward as well. Like this, standing next to her, the change didn't feel so hard. Like this, he felt like he _could_ go to battle.

"We're going to get them back," he said, as much to himself as to her. "Annie, Cori, Morgan. We're going to get them all back."

"Of course we will," Ayame said. "We're not leaving them behind. Not this time."

He let out the breath he was holding, feeling himself shift forward slightly so that he was almost propping himself up on the railing. His hand tightened around hers. "When we get back," he said, "I'm going to be in so much trouble."

"That's what you get for barging into the Death Room and making demands," Ayame said, although there was a touch of amusement in her voice as she looked over at him, smiling. She sounded like she was trying very hard not to laugh. "I mean, who do you think you are, right?"

Rei paled. "Don't remind me," he said. He already knew that the memory of that conversation was going to haunt him for a long time to come.

"My dad's impressed, you know," Ayame said, grinning. "He wouldn't stop talking about it."

"Seriously?" Rei asked.

"Seriously," Ayame said. She turned her head back toward the front, looking out over the ocean. "Better watch out, Rei. Before you know it, he's gonna want to adopt you into the family."

Rei snorted softly, although he couldn't _quite_ stop the flush from coloring his face. "Good," he said. "Because the way things are going, I think my parents are going to disown me."

"Guess I'm a bad influence," Ayame said.

"Maybe," said Rei, shifting just that little bit closer to her. His arm brushed against hers, his shoulder against her shoulder. "Can't rule it out."

An alarm rang through the ship, the alert signal. Rei tensed as the noise moved through him, looking forward. Just ahead of him, he could make out the first dark smudge of land, the first hint of coastline. It was approaching rapidly, getting larger even as he watched. A voice rang out through ship's speaker system, one of the ship's engineers.

" _We are approaching the target,"_ the voice said. " _All hands, return to the bridge. Repeat, we are approaching the target. All hands, return to the bridge."_

Rei watched the skies, taking in a deep breath. His hands slowly loosened this grip from around the railing, from around her hand. They fell back at his side as he stepped back, taking a deep breath.

"Time to go," Ayame said, from beside him.

He nodded, shaking out his hands.

"Time to go."

* * *

The castle appeared small at first, a speck of black in the distance. As they approached it, it grew steadily larger, until it dominated the area in front of them, casting a long shadow over the airship. It was a many-tiered thing, a stone structure made up of several floors, all stretching toward the sky. It rested on a patch of earth that seemed to have been torn up with it, as if the castle had been a giant tree, and some hand had simply plucked it out of the earth.

The airship, still concealed by Angela's spell, had intended to brush up against the side of the castle, but the winds that surrounded the castle were brutal, pushing the little ship away as if it were a leaf falling from a tree. What followed was a harrowing few minutes while the airship struggled to right itself, before the airship finally found a place where it could come to a stop, several feet away from the castle's walls. It was close enough for the Cloak of Shadows' tines to reach, in theory, but the gap was wider than Rei was strictly comfortable with, the winds stronger up here than even the highest rooftops of Death City.

He clenched his fists to chase away his nervousness as the ship settled. He wouldn't back down, not now. He wouldn't lose his nerve, not while Clark, Vayne, Cassie and Ayame were all watching him.

He held his breath and let it out as the ship came to a stop, slowly letting his fingers open, letting his hands fall back to his sides.

"Ten minutes," Shinigami said, from where he was standing on the outer deck, Liz and Patty standing to either side of him.

The other members of the DWMA's strike force were arrayed around him, waiting. His parents were standing with them, both of them watching him. The anger seemed to have left them for now, and their faces were serious, telling him everything he needed to know about what was at stake here. He nodded to them and to Shinigami, then turned his back toward the strike team, approaching the railing nearest the castle.

The rest of his team moved to join him, all of them watching him expectantly.

"We have ten minutes," he told them, setting an alarm on his watch. Across from him, he saw the others do the same. "Our first priority is finding Morgan. After that, things are probably going to get a little messy. Try and meet up with the DWMA strike team if you can, but don't wander around the castle looking for each other. When in doubt, head back to the ship."

They nodded at him, expressions solemn. Rei craned his neck, studying the castle beside them. It was bigger than he imagined, but it didn't change what they had already decided.

"The plan's the same," he said. "Ayame and I will start from the top. Clark, Vayne, and Cassie, you guys start from the bottom. Everyone ready?"

Clark and Cassie nodded, Cassie pulling her headphones down so that they hung around her neck.

"Ready as we'll ever be," said Vayne.

_This could be the last time you see any of them alive,_ a little voice at the back of his mind said. _Some of you might not come back from this._

It made him feel like he should say something more, something to mark the occasion, but he couldn't really think of anything to say. He nodded at them, extending a hand towards Ayame. "Stay safe."

She transformed in a flash of light, the Cloak of Shadows settling around his shoulders. He felt for the tendrils of shadow that streamed from it, taking hold of the kunai as they formed out of the air. There was another flash of light as Vayne transformed, Clark and Vayne's souls swelling in time as a chain extended from the handle of the pendulum blade. Clark wrapped the chain around the knuckles of his free hand, then pulled Cassie close to him with the other, hooking his arm around her waist.

"Sorry about this, Cassie," he said, his cheeks flushing slightly as he hefted Vayne's weight with one hand. "Nothing personal."

"Time starts now," Rei said, pressing a button on his watch. Clark let out a grunt of effort, flinging the blade at the castle walls. The blade lodged into the stone, the chain going taut and sending both Clark and Cassie flying through the air. Rei watched them until he could no longer see them, then took a running leap, kicking off of the railing and throwing the Cloak's tines as hard as he could. From within her soul space, Ayame let out a battle cry, surging forward with the kunai like a streak of light.

There was an awful moment of weightlessness as he started to fall, his stomach lurching as the wind caught him and the ground rose up to meet him, and then the tines caught onto one of the higher towers and he was flying, the tendrils snapping taut and whipping him up into the air. Rei's breath caught in his throat as he flew, over the airship, over Clark, Vayne and Cassie, over everything. His momentum made him soar higher than the castle for an instant, and in that instant, he saw the castle for what it was, saw the layout of it, saw the world.

_Hold on Morgan, Annie, Cori…_ he thought, his eyes locking onto one of the castle's towers. _We're coming._

* * *

The first floor of the castle was deserted, but Clark knew that it wouldn't be for long. He landed on the other side of a broken window, glass crunching beneath his feet as he set Cassie down carefully on the ground beside him, shifting his grip on Vayne. He could feel Vayne's determination and desire to find Morgan like a current of electricity moving from the blade into his skin, a warmth and lightness and a readiness to move, but he kept a hand on it anyway, studying the area. He picked a likely looking corridor and took off at a run, Cassie close behind him.

It had not been the most graceful or most stealthy entrance, and he was fairly certain that they were going to draw any guard who happened to be alert at this time, but every guard whose attention they drew was a guard drawn away from Rei and Ayame. And at this point, stealth didn't matter. Only speed mattered.

They had ten minutes, ten minutes to put themselves ahead of the rest of the DWMA. To find Morgan before open season started. It didn't feel like nearly enough time.

"Left," Cassie said, her eyes glassy with exertion. Clark nodded, taking a left down a corridor and grabbing onto Cassie's wrist with his free hand to make sure that they weren't separated.

"Now right," Cassie said, continuing to guide him. "Now, up—no, wait _down_ —no—."

Clark looked back at her, eyes wide. The three of them were standing near a staircase, stairs extending both up towards the higher floors and down into the bedrock that floated beneath the castle. A noise sounded in the distance, not too far from them, something that might have been footsteps. Cassie had her brow furrowed up in concentration, a scowl on her face. Beads of sweat had formed on her forehead, her free hand pressed to the side of her head.

"Cassie?" Clark asked, turning towards her. "Cassie, what—?"

"It's all jumbled up," Cassie said, her breathing sounding labored. "It keeps changing. I can't—ugh, I can't a fix on this."

" _Up or down, Cass,"_ Vayne said, his voice emanating from the blade resting on Clark's shoulder. Clark could see him reflected in the steel, watching Cassie with concern. Something was definitely approaching them. The air had changed, becoming deathly still. Clark felt a shiver run up his spine. " _Just pick one."_

"I can't—," Cassie said. "I don't know—."

Lights started shimmering on the floor and walls, magic circles. Shadow creatures dripped out of them, darkness coalescing until they took on some sort of recognizable form, hounds and beasts and crows and all of the shapes that had been present during the attack on Death City. Clark stepped in front of Cassie, but they were everywhere. There were too many of them, and more were forming every time he turned his head, blocking off all avenues of escape.

He caught Cassie's shoulder.

"Cassie—," he said, about to tell her to drop it and run, when Cassie's eyes suddenly lit up, widening.

She jerked her head up to the ceiling.

"Up!" she said.

Clark's eyes moved from her to the beasts that surrounded them, to the path she had indicated. Up. But there were monsters on the stairs too, monsters everywhere. He couldn't run that way, not with Vayne and Cassie. They would just follow him, and none of them would find Morgan.

He could see Vayne's face reflected in the steel of the pendulum blade, could see his partner's brow furrow, his jaw clench as he realized that too. When he spoke, it sounded pained.

" _Just go,"_ he said. " _Leave it. We need to get out of here, Clark."_

An idea struck him, brilliant and stupid at the same time. But it was the only option he had. Clark shook his head, widening his stance. "We need to find Morgan," he said.

" _We can't,"_ Vayne said. " _We need to get out. We can't fight our way out of this."_

"You're right," Clark said, looking back at Cassie. She turned towards him, expression solemn, and he knew from the look in her eyes that she understood what he wanted to do. She inclined her head forward, the tiniest of nods, and Clark drew in a deep breath. "We can't fight our way out of this."

That was the last thing he said before he let out a cry of effort, swinging the pendulum with all of his might and hurling it upward, at the gap in the center of the staircase. Vayne's eyes widened from within his soul space, and Clark heard him scream something as the blade soared through the air, far out of his reach.

The monsters charged. There wasn't any time to think, so Clark stretched out his hands, reaching for the power deep inside his soul. Electricity crackled and sparked within him, pulsing in time to the beat of his heart and traveling from his soul to his fingertips. He widened his stance as the monsters charged at him, light flashing off of his glasses.

As he surged forward to meet them, he shook his head, flinging his glasses off and out of his way as he charged into the melee.

* * *

The view outside of their window had stopped shifting, which was the only reason that Cori knew they had stopped. On some level, she didn't even care.

She sat curled up in the alcove by the window, eyes on the ground in the distance, her hands resting on top of her knees. Her fingers played with the hem of the black dress she was wearing and contemplated slicing through it. It would be easy, a simple partial transformation. She was fairly certain she could get through the dress, the cushions, the bed, the wardrobe, and the bedroom door, and could probably do all that before anyone came out to catch her.

But what good would that do? They were in a castle floating in the sky. Eventually, they would catch her. Eventually, they would wear her down. And when they did, things would be worse.

It was the same sort of circle that her mind had taken her around in several times. Over and over again, since the night she and Annie had been taken here. Over and over, like a rat in a cage, and she couldn't do anything about it. Because even if she wasn't scared for herself—which she was—even if she was just desperate enough to try something like that, the Morrigan had already gotten to her, had already figured out her weakness exactly.

The one thing that Cori wouldn't risk. It made her sick just to think about it.

"…Cori?"

The sound of the voice made her turn her head away from the window, turning to face her sister. Annie was standing a few feet away, head bowed uncertainly, her feet turned inward with the toes touching. She had one of her hands clasped around her arm, where the white fabric of a bandage was peeking out from beneath her sleeve, and the sight of the bandage only made Cori angrier. It made the anger rise up inside of her like a physical thing, made it infinitely more likely that she would end up doing something stupid.

And less likely at the same time. Because it was Annie. Because she couldn't risk Annie's safety, Annie's sanity, Annie's life.

Her thoughts must have showed in her eyes, because Annie stepped forward, biting her lower lip uncertainly as she reached for Cori's hand with both of her own. Her hands were cold to the touch, but Cori didn't care. They were her sister's hands, her twin's. Annie was always and would always be a part of her.

"…Are you still angry?" Annie asked, meeting Cori's eyes. Something hot and wet stung her eyes, and she looked away so that she wouldn't start crying. "It doesn't hurt," Annie went on, misinterpreting Cori's reaction. "It really doesn't. I'm—I'm alright. I'm fine as long as you're with me."

There was a quiver in the words as Annie spoke them, a tremble in the hands that were holding onto hers. Cori felt another surge of anger, because Annie was trying to be brave, and she shouldn't have to. She shouldn't have to be put in a situation where she felt like she had to be brave, for Cori's sake. This was all messed up and wrong and this wasn't the way things were supposed to go. It wasn't _right_.

"…The darkness doesn't come as long as you're here."

Annie's hands tightened around her own. Cori's breath caught in her throat, the words like pain stabbing into her heart. She turned towards her sister, mouth open, ready to speak.

"Annie—."

The door opened, cutting her off mid-sentence. Every instinct in Cori's body told her to run, to grab her sister and make a break for the door, to escape. She fought those instincts down, forcing herself to stay in her seat. It wouldn't work, it wouldn't help anyone in the long run. She had to behave, she had to keep Annie safe.

The man who poked his head into the room wasn't one that Cori recognized. He had dark hair, and red eyes. He wore a sort of red cloak. She didn't know him, but she knew enough by now to know that he wasn't a friend, could tell that from the way he looked over at the two of them and smiled, as if he wasn't really seeing people but something else. It was a look that she had become somewhat familiar with over the past two weeks, the look that didn't say 'oh, here's Anima and Corpore Evans, they're twins, and they're almost nine and they love each other', but instead said, 'oh, here's the freak show with black blood and the only one who can keep her in line'. It was a look that the Morrigan wore, each time that Cori had seen her. It was, strangely, not a look that she had ever seen on Mordred's face.

So it was a surprise when this man looked at them and didn't immediately ask for Annie.

"Which one of you is Corpore Evans?"

A chill ran through her. Cori felt Annie tense, and immediately pulled her hand out of her twin's grasp, throwing her arm out in front of her to shield her from the man at the door.

"Who wants to know?" she asked, tilting her chin up in challenge.

The man smiled at her. "I do," he said, "And there's really a very easy way to find out."

His eyes moved meaningfully toward the bandage on Annie's arm. Cori tensed, but got the picture, getting to her feet. Annie's eyes widened and she turned toward her sister, face paling.

"Cori?" she asked.

Cori shook her head, trying to tell her not to worry about it. She turned toward the man at the door. "I'm Corpore," she said. "What do you want?"

"Perfect," the man said, his smile never faltering. "I'm glad we understand each other. I'd like you to come with me, if you don't mind. It's only for a minute. There's something I need you to do for me."

Beside her, Annie whimpered, staring at her with wide eyes. Cori glanced at her sister and remembered the Morrigan's words about being good, about not causing trouble. Imagined Annie sitting alone in a dungeon cell, imagined what that would do to her mind. She looked back at the man.

"Why can't we do it in here?" she asked.

"Because that would be inconvenient," the man said. He inclined his head towards the door. "Shall we?"

Fear seized her, but she forced herself to take a step forward, forced herself to keep her shoulders square, her eyes set straight ahead of her. _For Annie,_ she thought, holding it there in the back of her mind. For her sister. It was hard to do when she was so afraid, when she heard Annie gasp from behind her, heard her sister take a step forward towards her.

"Cori!" Annie began.

She reached the man, and he placed a hand around her arm, keeping her in place in case she had any ideas about running away. She did have those ideas—today, and yesterday, and tomorrow and every day that she was kept in this place—but she didn't act on them. She wouldn't. Instead, she looked back over her shoulder, at the sister who was staring at her, one hand outstretched, afraid to see her leave but too afraid to stop her.

"Don't worry, Annie," she said, forcing a smile on her face. "It's only going to be a minute. I won't leave you."

"Good girl," the man said, tugging on her arm to get her moving. As Cori walked in the direction of the door, the man looked back at Annie. "Your sister's right. Just behave yourself, and she'll be back in a minute."

The door closed, leaving Annie alone on the other side. Cori felt the weight of separation like something integral to them had broken, some crucial link between their bodies. She knew that she had to be imagining things. She and Annie had been separated before—they didn't do _everything_ together. And yet, the moment the door closed, she wanted nothing more than to be back on the other side of it, with her sister.

Instead, she looked up at her captor. "What did you need me for?" she asked.

"You have the Anti-Magic Wavelength, don't you?" the man asked, already beginning to walk them down the corridor. "If that's so, I think you and I will get along splendidly. There's someone that I want you to meet."

* * *

The sound of Quoth's cawing startled her awake, and Morgan sat up sharply, realizing that she had fallen asleep on top of the book she was reading. Her cheek pulsed with a dull ache where the corner of the book had been pressed into her skin, but it was the least of her worries right now. The castle's security spells were active, sending her skin crawling, and Quoth was going crazy, flying from rafter to rafter and making a cawing noise loud enough to wake the dead. If she listened closely, beneath all of that, she could hear the sound of battle coming from somewhere downstairs, the shouts of combatants and the clash of weaponry.

Her blood went cold, the color draining from her face. Morgan scrambled to her feet, crawling on top of the bed and reaching for her tower room's window. It wasn't large enough to fit more than her head through, but she pushed it open, surveying the area around the castle. She couldn't see the DWMA's airship, but that didn't mean anything. The airship could be on the other side of the castle, or it could be invisible. She had no doubt that Angela could manage that, if she really wanted to.

_Vayne._

A wave of pure terror clutched at her heart, and she scrambled for the door, Quoth behind her. She didn't care if this was a DWMA assault, or a false alarm, or some harebrained scheme concocted by her friends. She needed to know if Vayne was in this castle, and if he was, she needed to get him out. That was all she needed. She was already scanning her memory, searching for the sort of spells she would need to use to send her friends away, when the door to her room slammed shut, her hands still on the doorknob.

She tugged at the knob, but the door refused to give. Morgan pulled again, letting out a little shout of frustration, but the door remained closed. She nearly sobbed, sagging against the door's wooden frame. Why now? Why was her room locking now? Was it just part of the castle's security system, or—

"I do hope you're not too put out by this, granddaughter," said a voice from the other side of the door, one that made Morgan's blood run cold. Violet light appeared around the doorknob, forming a twisting pattern that hurt her head to look at. She heard something metallic slide home, the door locking itself. "It's for your own safety. I hope you understand."

"Grand—grandmother," Morgan gasped out, feeling her head spin. "How did you—why are you—?"

"Oh come now," said the Morrigan, sounding almost amused. "Don't tell me you thought that you and Mordred were really pulling the wool over my eyes? _Mine,_ dear heart?"

The words stabbed through her chest like ice, knocking the wind out of her. Morgan felt her knees grow weak, darkness gathering at the edge of her vision. Sound turned to white noise. She tried to gather up enough mental strength to speak, but all she could manage was to open and close her mouth, looking like a fish that had found itself out of water.

"I—," she began. "I—I—."

"Oh, don't worry, dear," the Morrigan said, and Morgan could practically see the smile on her face. "I'm not mad at you, not really. It may be hard to believe, but I remember my own…indiscretions when I was your age. Still, I can't have you interfering with what's soon to come. Be a dear and wait there for me, will you? We can discuss the matter after everything's said and done."

Soft footsteps sounded on the other side of the door, like the Morrigan was walking away. Desperation jolted Morgan back to herself, and she pounded on her side of the heavy wooden door, her fist hurting with the force.

"Grandmother!" she called. "Grandmother, wait!" There was no answer. Morgan let out a ragged breath, feeling tears sting her eyes. "Grandmother, please…Please, wait…"

The footsteps continued, edging towards the stairs. Morgan felt the strength leave her then, felt herself slump down so that she was crouched on the ground, leaning against the door.

"Why?" she found herself asking. "Why are you doing this?"

She hadn't really expected the Morrigan to reply. Hadn't really expected her grandmother to still be there. When she did, it came as a surprise, but the words, coolly measured, shook her to the bone.

"Because I was once the goddess of death," the Morrigan said. "And the day will come when I sit on that throne again."

* * *

" _What is it, brother?" Arthur asked, looking over his shoulder at him from atop his warhorse. "You seem troubled today."_

_Mordred breathed deep, his gloved hands slack around his own mount's reins. Ahead of him, Morgana sat astride her own white mare, having already reached the top of the hill they were climbing. She was dressed in riding clothes, a cloak slung over one shoulder, a falconer's glove on her arm. Seated next to Arthur, who was dressed in gleaming armor, the two of them looked as if they were going to war. Mordred, as always, looked as though he had gotten lost on the way to the library. His own black courser, shier than the other two horses, lingered behind them. It was a bright summer day, and although it was still early, the sun was blazing in a way that promised heat to come._

" _Nothing troubles me," he told Arthur, trying to keep the lie from showing on his face, "except why trouble yourself with these bandits at all? Surely a king has more to occupy himself with than simple security."_

_Arthur flashed him a smile that made him look regal, that made him look like a king. "Ah," he said, "But where would be the fun in that."_

_Morgana's head jerked suddenly, as if she had caught a scent on the wind. Her eyes widened, her free hand tightening around her horse's reins. "Arthur, I've found them!" she called. "Twelve of them, dead ahead!" And then, before either of them could react, she tugged sharply on her mare's reins, the white horse rearing as it turned in the direction of the threat, charging down the hill. The crackle of magic rose up around her, her free hand already moving to free a slender steel blade from its sheath._

_Arthur let out a whoop of laughter. "Our sister threatens to leave us behind!" he told Mordred. "Shall we join her?" He spurred his horse forward with a shout before Mordred could act, stretching out his hand towards the mustachioed creature running beside him. "Excalibur!"_

" _Milord!" Excalibur barked, transforming in a flash of light._

_The two of them rode away, leaving Mordred in the dust. He drew in a breath, tightening his grip around his horse's reins and pursing his lips tightly together. Two sides of him warred with each other, the one that wanted to follow them and the one that wanted to remain behind. As always, the wrong one won out._

" _Yah!" he said, snapping the reins and driving his own horse into a charge. Wind whipped around him as the horse crested the hill and power ran through him, seven spears of violet light appearing in the air around him. As his courser ran down the hill, drawing up next to Arthur's warhorse, Arthur turned his head and flashed him a grin that made his heart hurt…_

Mordred drew in a slow breath at the memory, standing alone in the castle's ballroom and feeling the weight of the alarms against his skin. He breathed slow and deep, trying to chase the memories away, trying to return his mind to a place of calm, of cold, brutal efficiency. The memories wouldn't go. This time, the ghosts that haunted him, Arthur and Morgana both, refused to leave.

It was as though the world were conspiring to make him remember his sins, to face their ghosts, their memories. The alarms continued to ring, calling his mother's forces to order, and unbidden, his mind wandered, settling on a different memory…

" _And where have you been?"_

_His mother's voice was sharp as he slunk back into the castle, and he tried to stand straight as she approached him, tried to make it seem as though he did not smell like horse, as though there were no grass stains on his clothes, as though the scent of the summer breeze wasn't surrounding him. She watched him, eyes sharp, and he averted his gaze before he knew what he was doing, hands clasped behind his back. One of her hands reached out, closing around his chin, and her nails made impressions in his cheeks as she turned his face back towards hers._

" _Out again," she said, frowning in displeasure. "As if I haven't told you enough to stay away from that Arthur boy."_

" _I—," Mordred began, because what else was he to say. "I—I'm sorry, Mother."_

" _Sorry?" the Morrigan repeated, releasing his face and pushing him away from her with a disgusted scowl. "You should be. I expect this sort of thing from your sister, Mordred, but not from you."_

_Something inside him shrank back from the words. He lowered his eyes back to the ground, not knowing what else to say. The Morrigan paced a few steps away from him, her hands clasped behind her back. She looked like a sculpture made out of ice, cold, regal._

" _Well, no matter," she said, her voice softening as she looked back over her shoulder at him. "I forgive you. After all, you can hardly be blamed for a few youthful indiscretions. In fact, Arthur's trust in you might prove to be quite useful…"_

_Ice settled into the pit of his stomach, cold fear coursing through his veins. His breath caught, and he didn't dare raise his head. His mother couldn't be suggesting—could she?_

" _Mother…?" he asked, his voice soft._

_She turned towards him then, a warm smile on her face. "My dear boy," she said, her voice like honey. "My dear, sweet boy. I was wondering if you might be willing to do your mother a favor…"_

_Her fingertips moved carefully over his cheek, soothing away the hurt from earlier. She tilted his face up and he raised his eyes to meet her, feeling tears start to sting them. She smiled, murmuring something comforting, and brushed them away as she leaned in, whispering her request into his ear._

_That request was the beginning of the end._

 


	42. Fata Morgana Pt. 2, Truth in Memories

**CHAPTER FORTY-ONE**

**Fata Morgana Pt. 2, Truth in Memories**

* * *

_The sword lay on a pedestal, resting on a velvet cushion. It was a beautiful blade, steel so fine that he could see his face reflected in it with a guard of gleaming silver. It looked almost too fine to have been crafted for something as crass as battle, but it was no ceremonial sword either. There was an efficiency and elegance to the way that it was made, a functionality to the form and shape of the blade that it made it all that much more beautiful because it was deadly._

_It was a contradiction wrought in steel, and Mordred found himself holding his breath as he leaned over it so as not to tarnish the weapon._

" _Magnificent, isn't it?" Arthur asked from behind him, watching him. Mordred had almost been able to trick himself into forgetting that the other man was even there. Arthur's footfalls rang throughout the stone chamber, heavy and regal, as he made his way over to Mordred. "I've decided to name it Clarent. It's meant to be a symbol of peace. Once we finish this ugly business at Camlann, brother, I think it will be time."_

_A gauntleted hand rested on his shoulder, heavy and reassuring. Arthur flashed him a smile, and Mordred felt his chest tighten, felt something close up inside of his throat. He shouldn't have been able to speak, but he had always been a good liar._

" _Time for what?" he asked, his voice sounding strangely soft and high-pitched in this chamber. "Don't tell me you're actually putting aside your armor?"_

" _I'm leaving the battlefield," Arthur said. "Guin would have me return home. It's high time I started governing this land that I've conquered."_

_He looked Mordred in the eye, and Mordred found himself shrinking back, found himself struggling to hold Arthur's gaze. He didn't want to look away, lest his brother notice his odd behavior, but he couldn't look at Arthur anymore. He found himself wishing that he could disappear, that he could simply stop existing. A lot of things would have been easier if he had never existed in the first place. If he, like Morgana, had ever had the courage to stand up for himself, the courage to choose._

_In theory, it would be so easy to open his mouth, to tell Arthur everything. He wanted it in that moment, so badly that he couldn't breathe, so badly that his mouth opened before he could stop himself._

_But the words that came out were not the words that he wanted to say. "—I'm sure your subjects will be very happy."_

_Arthur barked out a laugh at that, his grip tightening on Mordred's shoulder. "My_ knights _will be happy, now that I won't be dragging them to hell and back and over every inch of this godforsaken country. But, brother, while we're on the subject of changes, I was hoping to get the chance to speak to you."_

_There was a gleam in Arthur's eye that Mordred recognized, a gleam that sent something cold dropping into the pit of his stomach, that sent ice moving through his veins._

No, brother, _he found himself thinking._ Don't make this harder than it has to be. Please.

_But Arthur wasn't listening, and the gods, if they were, were not that kind. "Merlin has done a lot for me. I'm not discounting that. As far as advisors go, he's been damn near the best of them. But he is…getting a little on in years, and while I know it's not quite the same for you folk as it is for the rest of us, I just wanted to let you know that there will be place in my castle for you, if you decide that's where you'd like to be."_

_A portion of himself screamed at Arthur, wanting to be released from this pain, this personal hell. Mordred took that portion of himself, and all of his sympathy, all of his doubts, and shoved it deep down inside of him, so deep that he could barely feel it anymore, could barely hear himself screaming out. He managed, somehow, to look Arthur in the eye when he replied._

" _Thank you, brother. That means—a lot to me."_

" _You deserve it," Arthur said, smiling. "You and Morgana both. I'd never have gotten this far if it hadn't been for the two of you."_

_He released Mordred's shoulder, letting his hand fall back to his side. Mordred watched him turn away, a kingly figure in gleaming armor. "I'll see you on the battlefield, will I? It's time to finish this."_

_His throat tightened unpleasantly as he watched Arthur leave, the light from the chamber's high windows shining unevenly in the room and making it seem as though Arthur were walking from light into shadow. As though Mordred had always been in the shadow to begin with._

" _I'll be there," he said, the words sounding choked. "Brother."_

_Arthur raised a hand in farewell, not looking back as he left the room. Mordred waited until the last of his footsteps had faded away, then exhaled, his shoulders slumping. His eyes moved from the doorway to the floor, to the sword that lay on its cushion beside him, to the way its blade gleamed almost like a mirror._

_The eyes that looked back at him out of that sword were haunted, dead._

_Clarent, the sword of peace. A tool of war, designed to become something greater, to end it. Arthur's grand dream, a world where war would become unnecessary, where swords could be appreciated simply because they were beautiful. For half a moment, it had been Mordred's dream too. But swords couldn't change. He'd known that already._

_He had only ever been his mother's sword._

_His hand moved to the blade, hovering hesitantly over its surface before his fingers closed around the hilt. Slowly, reverently, he lifted the blade from its pedestal…_

The alerts were coming from two places, the majority of them concentrated around the first floor entry way, while a handful of alarms rang mutely from one of the high towers. Mordred strode quickly towards the stairs that would take him to the tower roof, trusting the Morrigan's spelled creatures to handle the intruder in the entrance hall. His mind was already working, running through numbers and making contingency plans—a plan to save the castle if the breach was small and easily repaired, a plan for if the enemy were numerous and this resulted in a drawn out battle, a plan for if it seemed like the enemy might win the day.

He was fairly confident that they could fight off any foe, even the strongest members of the DWMA. This place was a place of power, and he could feel that power surging through him as he moved through the halls, lending his step an extra spring. His mother would be feeling it too, and she was still in residence. The DWMA, if this truly was who was attacking, had chosen a bad time to assault this place.

He was still thinking that when he rounded the corner and nearly walked straight into his mother.

The Morrigan was making her way down the stairs from Morgan's tower room, her stride composed and unhurried. He managed to slow himself, coming to a smooth stop before it even _looked_ like he had been on the verge of walking into her. "Mother," he said, bowing his head in the hope that the motion would hide his chagrined expression.

"Mordred." The Morrigan's voice had a touch of amusement in it, despite the alarms that rang around them. "You seem troubled, son. Where are you going in such a hurry?"

There was no way that his mother had missed the alarms ringing, as sharp as she was. That she was asking the question meant that she already knew the answer, that she wanted to hear him give her an answer himself. It was a game that the two of them had been playing for centuries. He was well familiar with its rules by now.

"There's been a security breach, Mother," he said, falling into the familiar rhythm. "One of the towers has been broken into. I aim to repel the invaders."

"No need," the Morrigan said, walking past him and down the corridor. She moved calmly, as if this were simply another day, as if she had planned for this possibility to begin with.

He couldn't help himself. Even though he knew that he was playing into her hands, he gaped at her. "Mother?" he asked, confused.

"The power beneath Tara Hill has already filled the castle's stores," the Morrigan said, barely slowing her step to respond to him. "Let the rats have it. They'll soon find that it won't be the prize they expect it to be."

His heart quickened at those words, his breathing shallowing in a way that hadn't happened for over a decade. After Morgana, he had thought that he was done being taken off-guard by his mother. But it looked as though even that hadn't been the worst.

"You can't mean—," he began, before he could stop himself.

He knew he had said the wrong thing when his mother stopped walking, her back to him. She didn't look over her shoulder. "I can," she said. "I will. I thought you'd learned to stop questioning me by now, Mordred."

The rebuke was like a slap in the face. Arthur's face flashed through his mind. Morgana's. He lowered his head before he realized he was doing it.

"Of course, Mother," he heard himself say, like it was coming from somewhere far away. "I apologize."

"Good," the Morrigan said, continuing to walk. "Inform our allies, _discreetly_ , that they are to evacuate the castle. And see to it that our guests are accounted for. I may have need of those twins yet."

His eyes moved from his mother to the stairs she had just descended from, the stairs leading to Morgan's tower room. A wave of cold rushed through him then, a surge of fear so strong that it almost knocked the wind out of him. He looked up at his mother—did he dare? But she was already almost gone. If he was going to speak up, now would be the time. If he didn't—.

"Mother," he said, and there was a desperate edge to his tone that he couldn't quite stamp out. The Morrigan stopped walking again, and he could see impatience writ into her posture, into the curve of her spine, into every breath. "What about Morgan?"

When she spoke, her voice was cold. "What about her?"

She started walking again. Mordred stared after her, feeling his heart pound, feeling his world tilt on his axis. The crackle of magic against his skin, the mark of Tara, had once been comforting. Now, it felt like a death sentence.

Magically, Tara Hill was one of the most important places in the world, one of only two places where Fata Morgana's stores of power could be replenished, and the only one that was accessible to them. They had stopped here multiple times in the past to refill the castle's energy stocks, the great crystals that stored magical power and released it slowly, just slow enough to keep the castle afloat and moving. Used sparingly, they could keep the castle in motion for nearly a year.

Released all at once, they would turn the castle into a bomb.

* * *

Electricity crackled around his soul, bright and powerful, the world fading into a comforting sort of static. Enemies rushed at him from all sides, and he repelled them, the lightning that came from his fingertips tearing apart creatures made out of shadow, shattering them, reducing them down into their component parts. Clark moved in a flurry of light and shadows as he ducked underneath beaks and claws, his hands moving in a rapid series of strikes and blocks as he tore through their attackers, one by one.

And still they kept coming. The Morrigan's security forces charged at him, leaping for his head, his eyes, his throat. He ducked out of the way of the claws of one oversized crow, his right hand grabbing for the crow's throat. Electricity spread from the fingers of his hand at the contact, shadows streaming behind him as his hand punched straight _through_ the crow, the crow's body becoming incorporeal just in time for him to take a step back and grit his teeth, just in time for him to prepare himself as what looked like a large ogre charged at him, battleaxe in hand. He caught the axe's blade as it fell, clapping both of his hands around its sides to stop it from reaching him. Power pulsed through him, the blade shattering beneath the wavelengths that exuded from each of his hands. Behind him, he heard Cassie say something, her tone worried, but her voice sounded like it was coming from somewhere very far away.

He jumped back, feeling a thrill as the ogre threw the shaft of its useless axe away, one of its massive hands clenching into a fist and aiming straight at his head. Clark ducked beneath the blow, hooking one of his arms around the ogre's outstretched one and pulling the creature down just as his other hand went up, the side of his palm slamming into the ogre's throat. The creature let out a choked noise as the electricity coursed through it. Then nothing. He shoved the ogre aside, so much dead weight, and spun around to face the horde that stood in front of them.

His body was tired. He could tell that much, could feel that much in the way that his arms threatened to hang limp at his sides, in the way that his breath was coming quicker and quicker, but it felt like an abstraction, a distant thought, like it was happening to someone else. The only thing he was aware of was the crackle of static in his ears, the flood of adrenaline in his veins, the grin on his face. The power flooded through him, coursed through him in a way that he had never let it before, and it was powerful and all-consuming and wonderful. It was addiction, pure and sweet, and he found himself welcoming it, found himself throwing his arms open wide as if to embrace it as the Morrigan's creatures charged at him again.

How could he have been afraid of this—this rush, this _high_ , this feeling of being _alive_? This power was a part of him. It was life, it was water in the desert, it was pure, unbridled ecstasy. It was—

—an image passed through his mind as he ducked beneath another blow, a girl her blond hair streaming out behind her, a white dress—

—It was the power that had killed Ophelia.

Clarity, cold and awful, rushed through him like a splash of freezing water. His eyes widened as he came back to himself, and suddenly he was crouching on the ground, getting rushed at by foes on all sides, and his heart was pounding in his chest and his skin was clammy and cold. And Cassie was screaming his name, her voice hoarse as if she had been screaming it over and over again.

"Clark!" she shouted, from over by the back wall. "Snap out of it, Clark!"

One of the monster's blows came crashing down. Clark sidestepped it with wide eyes, trapping the monster's arm beneath his own and sweeping his leg out in an arc, catching the monster in the back of the legs and sending it crashing to the ground. He didn't stop to think, just grabbed Cassie by the hand and took off with her down a free hallway. Her breathing sounded loud to him—had she been fighting as well—and she stumbled as they ran, but Clark didn't slow down.

He felt his gorge rise, bile filling his mouth, and had to clamp his lips together tightly to stop from being sick. What had he done? What had he become?

"Clark!" Cassie's voice was insistent, snapping him out of another reverie.

She dug her heels into the ground, coming to a quick stop, and tugged on his sleeve to get him to stop as well. Clark stopped, staring at her with wide eyes, and went without complaint as she threw open the door to a broom closet, shoving him into it behind her. The sound of their pursuers' footsteps filled the air as she shut the door, rivaled only by the sound of their breathing and the sound of his own beating heart.

"Cassie," he heard himself say, his hands going up to his face, fingers digging into his skin. "God—Cassie—."

Her slap, when it came, reverberated through the air. A sharp pain rose up along the side of his face, and he blinked, finding that the blow had turned his head to the side. He looked back at her to see that her own face was pale, her eyes narrowed in determination.

"Snap out of it," she said, and he heard her fighting against a quaver in her own voice. "This isn't the time to be losing it on me. We can't hide in here forever. We're going to need to fight them."

"I—." Clark stared down at his hands, flexing his fingers. The power inside of him had retreated, leaving him feeling sick and weak. _I can't,_ he wanted to say, _I can't fight,_ but he didn't get the chance.

"Use me," Cassie said, grabbing onto his wrists and pulling his hands down, out of his line of sight.

He stared at her, uncomprehending. "What?" he asked.

"Use me," Cassie repeated. She bit her lip, her eyes moving to the door. The sound of their pursuers was louder now, like they were in the hallway right outside. Sooner or later, they were going to start searching closets, start searching for places where two DWMA students would be likely to hide.

Clark's eyes widened further.

"I—we can't," he began. "We've never—."

Her grip on his wrists tightened, shutting him up. "We don't have much of a _choice_ ," she said. "Look, just repeat after me. _Ignis,_ okay? That's fire, that's all you need to know. Morgan and I agreed on that word, so it should still work. We can agree on a few more too, if you like, but we're out of time. _Lightning_ —that can mean zap everything in a five meter radius. I think I can manage that."

"Cassie—," Clark began.

"We don't have _time,_ Clark," Cassie said, looking him in the eye. "We don't have time and we don't have options. And I'm not willing to die here, okay? There was a time when I thought I would have been willing to die, but that time is _past_. It's gone! We have things we need to do, and people who are counting on us, and I'm not going to let you give up now! So are we doing this?"

"I just—."

Her grip tightened to the point of pain. "Are we doing this, _Clark?"_

Footsteps, just outside of their door. A cry shouted in a guttural language that Clark couldn't understand, but that sounded bad for them regardless. He looked back at Cassie, nodding once.

"Yes," he said, strangely breathless. "Yes. Let's try."

Cassie nodded, her expression an odd mixture of resignation and relief. She exhaled and sagged forward with the motion, her grip loosening on his fingers. And then she dissolved into light, coming apart. The heavy weight of her grimoire form settled into his hands, paper rustling as the pages turned. The door to their closet burst open, splintering where it had been struck. Clark turned to face it, hand up.

" _Ignis!"_

* * *

Cori Evans followed him without complaint as he returned to the library where he had left Elaine, her shoulders back and eyes straight ahead of her despite the fear that she had to be feeling. Micah watched her out of the corner of his eye. In a lot of ways, at that moment, she was her mother writ miniature. He ushered her into the library, closing the door behind him and turning to face the golden-haired woman who waited for them.

Elaine still sat in the chair where he had left her, motionless despite the alarms that were currently traveling throughout the castle. Any other day, she would have already been at one of the battles breaking out around Fata Morgana, but those had been the Morrigan's orders. By asking her to stay here and wait for him, he had inadvertently overwritten them.

A blank slate. She would do exactly what they told her to, whenever they told her to, and she would do it with competence and skill. The perfect assassin.

It made him feel a little bit guilty for what he was trying to do, but not enough to stop the whole experiment and send Cori back to her room. By this point, he had already built up the question in his mind, and there really wasn't any turning back now. He needed to know.

He took Cori by the arm, putting her between him and Elaine. She stumbled when he tugged at her and looked back at him with a puzzled frown on her face, her eyes moving between him and Elaine. The color had drained from her face, and he felt her arm tremble beneath his hold, but otherwise she didn't show her fear.

"Do you see this lady, Corpore?" Micah asked, inclining his head towards Elaine. "I'd like you to use the Anti-Magic Wavelength on her."

Cori peered at Elaine quizzically, but _she_ was no blank slate, ready to receive orders and carry them out. There was intelligence buried there behind her eyes, beneath the fear and rage. She looked back at Micah, eyes narrowed, lips pursed tightly together in suspicion.

"Why?" she asked. "What'll it do?"

She flinched as she spoke, as if she half-expected him to hit her or snap at her to be quiet, but Micah had never been that crass. He appreciated the value of questions—after all, they were what he built his worldview around. In another life, he might have been a teacher.

He tilted his head towards her, giving her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. Given the way she shrank back from him, it clearly was not having the intended effect.

Ah well.

"A very good question," he said. "Our Miss Elaine here suffers from a particular ailment. Her ability seems to be dampening her actual soul. If your Anti-Magic Wavelength can peel back that veil, that would be…" He wasn't good enough of a liar to tell her that that would be a good thing. "…enlightening."

Cori's eyes flicked from him to Elaine again, as if she were considering. When she took a half-step forward toward Elaine, Micah knew that he had her, even if she didn't know it herself just yet.

"That's all I have to do?" Cori asked. "Just use the Anti-Magic Wavelength on her?"

"That's all," Micah said. "And then I'll never darken your door again. Cross my heart."

"And if this doesn't work?" Cori asked.

"That would be enlightening as well," Micah said. "For entirely different reasons."

Cori frowned, shifting her weight on the balls of her feet. She pressed her lips tightly together, chewing on her lower lip before nodding. "I'll do it," she said. "You need to let go of me."

Ill-advised, perhaps, but Micah could see her point. And he was confident enough in his ability to apprehend an eight-year-old child, if she suddenly got any ideas about escaping. He was confident too that she wouldn't, that she wouldn't risk leaving her sister behind.

He released her, taking a step back. He even held up his hands in front of him, palms out, to show her that he meant no harm. She snorted in derision at the gesture, eight years old and already so jaded, and stepped toward Elaine. Micah awakened his Soul Perception, a filter passing in front of his eyes and allowing him to see both Cori's soul, a rich violet and bright enough to burn, and Elaine's soul, shrouded in the static of her own Paralyzing Wavelength.

When light flared up in Cori's soul, it wasn't steady, like it might have been with her mother. Instead, it flickered and guttered a few times, like a flame trying to catch on damp tinder. He saw Cori's eyes narrow, her fists clenching in frustration, and then the light spread. It bloomed brightly like a flower, spreading from the center of her chest through her body, then emanated outward from her, flowing toward Elaine.

For an instant, nothing happened. But then that warm light brushed up against the crackle of Elaine's wavelength and slowly began to spread over it, pooling deeper, threading itself through the tangle around Elaine's soul. Where the light touched, Elaine's wavelength retreated, sparks and electricity peeling back to reveal the soul inside of her, a pale blue that was the same color as her son's. It twitched as the Cori's wavelength washed over it, and then a feeble light sprang up from inside of it, a flame glimpsed through a dirty lampshade, and something appeared in Elaine's eyes.

Awareness first, a spark threading through the wide, blank blue. Then the first hint of fear. Confusion. Micah felt a thrill run through him as Elaine's brow furrowed, her lips pursing, her eyes moving toward his.

The moment, unfortunately, was broken by the door crashing inward, splintering under the weight of the blast of wind that slammed against it.

Several things happened at once.

Angela Leon burst in through the library door, her eyes narrowed in fury beneath the brow of her witch's hat. She was sitting astride a familiar scalpel-shaped naginata, wind coiling around the spear's blade and buoying it into the air.

Elaine leaped away from Cori at the intrusion, pulling the light of Cori's Anti-Magic Wavelength free from the tangle around her soul.

And Cori's eyes flicked towards Angela at the same time as Micah's did, wide with surprise and something very much like hope.

He turned towards her, horrified, and saw the calculations playing out in the back of her mind the same way they would have been had he been in her situation, the same weighing of risks, of possible actions. A few minutes ago, Cori wouldn't have dared defy him, not when she knew that there was no escape and that her sister was still under their control. The risks vastly outweighed the rewards.

But the situation had changed. The DWMA was here, and that meant revenge and rescue all at once. If she could get away from him, if she could reach them, then she could guide them toward her sister. Then they could all escape, and ruin everything.

The balance had flipped the other way.

He saw the exact moment that she realized it, saw the light that flared up in her eyes, the excited flush that appeared on her cheeks. Saw it, and tried to stop it.

"No!" he shouted, lunging for her, arms outstretched to wrap around her. Too late.

There was a flash, and then where her arm had been, there was the gleaming curve of black steel, swiping at his chest. He jerked back, avoiding the blow, and that gave Cori the opening she needed to surge forward, running for Angela with the sort of speed and urgency that only adrenaline made possible. He grabbed at her again, feebly, but she leaped away from him, running into the nexus of wind, and was gone.

* * *

Vayne ducked around a darkened corner as a group of the Morrigan's monsters passed by, breathing hard, one of his hands pressed against a stitch in his side. Below him, the sounds of battle rang out, both the sounds of the fight that he had left Clark and Cassie to and new ones, new shouts and explosions that he hadn't heard before. The DWMA, presumably. Their ten minutes were up. They'd run out of time.

No, he thought, looking left and right with wide eyes. Not yet. They hadn't run out of time _yet._

He still had time to find Morgan. He still had time to get them out of this, to get her to safety before anything happened that they wouldn't be able to take back.

He still had time. He wasn't going to abandon her here.

Gritting his teeth, he poked his head out into the hallway that he had just left, looking both ways. Seeing no one, he stepped out, his hand at his side, ready to transform at any moment. The battles were loud, loud enough that he could hear them even here, at least two floors up from the action. He couldn't imagine that someone as perceptive as Morgan didn't know that all of this was going on. And while he knew that she wouldn't do something as simple as showing herself to the DWMA and surrendering, he knew that she had to know what was going on, that she would be unwilling to fight against them.

Unable to stand up against her family. Unable to stand down and let them do whatever they wanted.

The image of the inside of a grubby shed flashed through his mind, his breathing harsh in his own ears, the memory of moonlight slanting in through an open window, reflecting off of his bladed hands.

Vayne knew what Morgan would do. He had done it himself.

 _If I were Morgan,_ he thought, sweeping his eyes over the hallway, _and I wanted to get away from all of this, where would I go?_

His eyes tracked upward. Up, Cassie had said, but there wasn't much farther he could climb. The only things above this floor would be—

Insight flashed through his mind, his eyes widening as he whirled around, trying to find the nearest staircase. The towers. A tower room. Morgan was a raven witch—a bird. If she wanted to get away, wouldn't she try to get as high as she could? High above everything, where nothing could touch her…

He ran down the hallway, struggling to remember the layout of the castle from outside, to remember where the towers were. There had to be a staircase somewhere around here. There had to be—

Up ahead, the hallway ended in a sharp corner. He ran towards it, and as he did, a man stepped out around the corner, coming the other way. Vayne froze, skidding to a stop, his eyes wide. He stared up at the man, feeling his blood run cold.

The man—Mordred—stared back, and Vayne saw a flicker of recognition in his eyes…

* * *

Rei could feel time slipping away.

He knew that their ten minutes were up, but he still hadn't found Morgan. From up here, from his vantage point on top of one of the castle's turrets, he should have been able to. His Soul Perception didn't have the same range as his mother's, but it had _some_ range, and he knew that from where he was, he should be able to sense every soul that was currently inside the castle.

And he couldn't. It was like trying to find an elusive frequency, every time he thought he came close to feeling something, to hearing something, all of his senses were filled with static. He grit his teeth, trying again, trying to find the gaps in this strange shroud that covered the castle, but it was no use. Instead of getting clearer, the grainy images and sensations that he was getting from the building beneath him faded away.

It was enough to make him want to scream, enough to make him want to duck down into the castle and find Morgan himself, to go at it blind. He didn't because he had waited for too long, and at this point, it would be like wandering straight into a trap.

" _Calm down,"_ Ayame said, as if she could sense the direction his thoughts were taking. " _Focus."_

The Cloak of Shadow settled over his shoulders, its weight pressing down on him. Inside her soul space, Ayame reached out, her hands wrapping around him from behind. Her presence enveloped him, warmth permeating his soul. She rested her head on his shoulder—he felt it as an added weight, the Cloak pressing down where her head had been.

And suddenly, everything snapped into focus, into brilliant clarity so suddenly that Rei almost let go of the image in his surprise. He could see _everything_ , could see Morgan holed up in her tower room, Clark and Cassie doing battle on the first floor, Micah and Angela and Shelley and Cori in the library, Annie alone. It felt as if the whole world had been revealed to him in a glimpse, the information coming so fast that he couldn't process it.

So fast that he almost didn't notice the soul that was standing on the rooftop, beside him.

Rei released his hold on the image and opened his eyes, shifting his weight into a guarded stance as he turned to face the intruder. Mordred stood a few feet away from him, watching him, eyes the color of wine narrowed into a disdainful glare. The sorcerer's expression was resigned, as if he had been expecting this. His hands were out at his sides, a violet light already beginning to spread across his fingertips. Rei stared at him, feeling anger and rage well up inside of him where there should have been fear.

There was no time for words, and words wouldn't have mattered in any case.

He passed his hand over the Cloak, fingers making a hand gesture as he signaled for a different weapon form.

Ayame transformed in a flash of light.


	43. Fata Morgana Pt. 3, Sword of Peace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo…I feel I should apologize in advance for Clark, because that nerd was just handed an object that can rewrite reality, so he's going to do what a lot of us would do with the same power—magic up something from one of his favorite series. It's just that…well, it's Clark. He's totally a closet weeb... . Most of you will know what he's referencing, at least tangentially.
> 
> Sorry, not sorry.

**CHAPTER FORTY-TWO**

**Fata Morgana Pt. 3, Sword of Peace**

* * *

The boy ran towards him, kusarigama in hand. Mordred sidestepped his opening blow, raising his hand and forming a barrier at his fingertips. Rei's scythe struck the barrier, skittering off of it and sliding away, and Mordred stepped into the opening, power crackling as he pressed the fingers of his other hand to Rei's chest. Force erupted from his fingertips and Rei let out a shout of pain as he was suddenly thrown back, the power behind the blow launching him into the air.

The wind blew, scouring the top of the turret, and for a moment, Mordred was in another place entirely…

_The battle raged on around them, men on both sides of the conflict letting out battle cries as they plunged into the fray. All around him, the sound of steel clashing against steel filled the air, the pounding of hoofbeats, the bark of orders and the sound of drums, the screams of the dying. The keening shrieks of Morgana's raptors as they swooped down from the air above, harrying the enemy's archers. The battle was one of the bloodiest they had seen in a while, but the tide was also turning. It was clear that Arthur's forces would win the day._

_He stuck to Arthur's side, one hand holding loosely to his reins as he surveyed the battle. The frontline had never been his comfort zone, and he could tell it showed, could feel his heart racing as his head jerked left and right, tracking each sound, each movement. Arthur noticed too, and Mordred heard him laugh from his mount beside his, a deep laugh from within his gleaming suit of armor._

" _Ease, brother," Arthur said. "We will carry this day."_

_Mordred opened his mouth to respond, but the words refused to come out, stopped by the knot in his throat. He turned away instead, gritting his teeth and lobbing an orb of violet light at a cluster of the enemy with his free hand. The light and the explosion gave him an excuse not to speak, an excuse to turn away…_

Rei landed neatly on his feet, his eyes narrowed in determination as he darted to the side, moving to flank Mordred. Mordred's eyes moved to track the boy's movements, spells leaping to the forefront of his mind in preparation. Something had changed in the boy since their last meeting. He seemed more focused, more prepared, less indecisive. Given enough time, he might have become quite the warrior.

It hardly mattered. He wouldn't be given enough time.

Rei leaped into the air, raising both of the kusarigama's scythes over his head and swinging them downward in a powerful attack. Mordred turned to face it, a circle of power writing itself into the air in front of him. The circle caught the scythes, pinning Rei in the air as the scythe's tips dug into the barrier.

"I see you're still as foolish as ever, boy," Mordred said, meeting his eyes. "You had your chance to live. You should have taken it."

Rei glared at him through the barrier's light, gritting his teeth. "You took my sisters," he said. "You took my friend. I'm not abandoning them to you."

Mordred scowled, feeling anger start to burn in the pit of his stomach. The barrier between him and Rei began to glow, and he heard Rei mutter a curse as light flared up across the barrier, forming a beam of pure energy that shot towards him at once. The beam of light was blinding, and Mordred blinked stars out of his eyes just in time to dodge as Rei spun away from the blast, landing lightly on the ground beside him and launching himself at him. That anger, a slow-burning fire, flared up, becoming impossible to ignore as Mordred swung his arm out to the side, the back of his fist catching Rei in the jaw and flinging him away.

"Your _friend_ gave up everything she had to keep you alive," he heard himself say, "By coming here, you dishonor her sacrifice."

Rei landed crouched on the ground, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth where Mordred had struck him. He raised his hand to his face, wiping the blood away with the back of his fist. "What do you know about Morgan's _sacrifice?"_ he asked, anger in his own voice as well. "What do you know about what she had to give up?"

"I know _everything_ ," Mordred said, whirling towards Rei. "I know the truth better than you!"

Rei snarled, pushing himself off the ground and leaping through the air towards Mordred. The kusarigama in his hands began to shift, becoming a katana as Mordred summoned power to his fingertips, shards of violet light appearing in the air and angling towards Rei. His heart beat quickly in his chest, blood rushing in his ears…

… _He was standing at Camlann again, at the end of the battle. Standing alone with Arthur, well out of earshot of the rest of the army, standing on a bloodstained field as Arthur cradled the helmet of a fallen knight. His brother stood with his back to him, silent for so long that Mordred wondered whether or not he had forgotten he was there._

" _There's nothing more you can do for him, brother," Mordred said, speaking through the tightness in his throat as he extended a hand, as he summoned the sword to bear, Clarent's hilt materializing at his fingertips. Arthur didn't seem to notice, his eyes on the armored body beneath him._

" _Of all of them, Tristan didn't need to die here," Arthur said, his voice soft. "He was only following my orders. But such is the way of things, isn't it, brother? We can't control who lives and who dies."_

_Mordred froze—had Arthur guessed what he had come here to do? But no, Arthur's back was still towards him, his eyes fixed on the setting sun. If Arthur had known, truly known what Mordred had been sent here to do, then he wouldn't have looked away. Mordred was sure of it._

_The sword formed fully out of the air, its weight settling into his hand. It was heavier than he thought it would be. Too heavy for so slender a blade. Mordred stared at his brother's back, musing about how this would be so easy. All he would have to do was step forward, slide the sword between the plates of Arthur's armor. All that he would have to do…_

_He took a step forward and then couldn't take another. He remained frozen in place, his eyes fixed on Arthur's back, a hand closing around his heart._

_He couldn't do it. Not like this._

" _Brother," Mordred said, his voice sounding choked to his own ear. "Won't you turn around?"_

_Hesitation. He saw Arthur pause, saw tension make its way through his back and shoulders. Then, slowly, he saw Arthur turn towards him…_

"Children like you always think you know!"

Where had this rage come from? This anger? Mordred wasn't sure, but he could feel his sanity slipping as he kicked Rei aside, his foot slamming into the boy's jaw as Rei launched himself towards him, bleeding from a pair of shallow cuts across his arms and legs where two of the shards had struck him. The blow hit hard and Rei went flying, his flight stopped only by the tines of the Cloak of Shadows, the kunai embedding themselves in the rooftop of the tower and pulling Rei back towards Mordred. Despair, black and consuming, bubbled in the pit of his stomach.

"You think you know everything, but you don't!" Mordred shouted. "You know nothing! You know nothing of sacrifice—of pain! You know _nothing_!"

You know nothing of pain, nothing of loss, nothing of agony.

Nothing.

_He stepped forward before Arthur could react, the Sword of Peace slipping through the cracks of Arthur's armor, stabbing him straight through the heart. Arthur made a sound like a surprised gasp, like someone had stepped on his chest. Mordred stood there, his hands closed around the hilt of the sword, feeling the strength leave his brother's body, feeling the moment when Arthur's armor became that much dead weight._

_Only then did he step back, letting the sword slide free. Only then did Arthur start to fall, his head tilting back so that he could meet Mordred's eyes._

_He was smiling. It was a tired, weary smile. A sad smile, that made him look so much older than he was, that still somehow managed to make him look like a king._

_Armored fingers brushed against his cheek, wiping something away._

" _Mordred…" The voice was soft in the stillness. "Why are you crying?"_

_Arthur's hand fell back through the air, landing on the earth with a thud. Time froze. Arthur closed his eyes._

_Clarent fell to the ground as Mordred dropped to his knees, letting out loud, gasping sobs as he clutched at the earth, ripping out chunks of grass as his shoulders heaved, as tears fell from his face in a torrent…_

* * *

Flames filled the air around him, glowing words writing themselves onto the pages of the book in his hand. Clark held the grimoire aloft, letting the flames clear a path through the horde of enemies that surrounded them, the creatures leaping aside to avoid their heat. He pinned the grimoire against his chest with one hand, taking off at a run through the gap. Monsters snarled at him as he ran, one of the ogres reaching back and taking a swipe at his head, but he ducked beneath the ogre's outstretched arm, breaking free of the crowd and fleeing into a deserted corridor.

Once there, he leaned back against the wall to catch his breath, peeling Cassie's grimoire form away from himself so that he could get a better look at her.

"Alright," he said. "I think we're clear. What now?"

" _Morgan's still upstairs,"_ said Cassie, her gaze moving upward from within her soul space. " _With Vayne. I'm worried about them. But the fighting—."_

"Yeah," said Clark, nodding. The sound of battle came mostly from downstairs, which is where he assumed that the DWMA's forces were concentrated. He grit his teeth. The way he saw it, two choices lay before them—run upstairs through uncharted territory with a weapon he wasn't familiar with so that he could try to rendezvous with Vayne, or head downstairs, rejoin Maka-sensei and the others, and try to help where he could.

There were pros and cons to each of those. If he went downstairs, he could ensure his and Cassie's safety, but he could also be putting Vayne in danger. If he went upstairs and things went well, he might be able to help his partner out of a bind, but if things went badly, they were only increasing the number of people that the DWMA had to rescue.

There was also a third choice, one that tugged at him in a way that he couldn't quite deny.

He could try to find his mother.

" _Clark?"_ Cassie asked.

"I'm thinking," Clark said, tracking his eyes upward, toward the ceiling. "What do you think we should do?"

Cassie bit her lip from inside her soul space, shaking her head. " _I don't—I can't—when I try and see those realities, they're all blurred inside my head. It's like a radio that isn't tuned properly. I don't—I don't know what to do."_

There was real loss in her voice, telling him that losing her connection to those realities was affecting her in a way he couldn't begin to understand. He leaned back against the wall, pressing the back of his head against the cool stone, and tried to think, tried to separate out what he _should_ do versus what he _wanted_ to do.

He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the vibrations of battle coursing through the stone behind him. Up or down? Neither? He had to decide quickly, or someone would find them. He had to pick something. At this point, it didn't even matter, as long as they were moving. Something—

"You alright, Greysteil?" a voice asked, mocking. "You're looking a little pale."

Clark opened his eyes at once, whirling toward the source of the voice. Grayson stood framed in an open doorway, his gauntlet encasing his arm. He had his other hand resting on his waist, his head cocked towards Clark and a confident smirk on his face. He looked— _different_ somehow, from the last time Clark had seen him. Harder.

" _Clark…"_ Cassie began, but he already knew what she would say.

It wasn't ideal, but it would have to do. He'd used up too much time, so fate had made his choice for him.

Clark sank low, widening his stance. He held the grimoire up, flipping to an empty page.

* * *

A wall of wind rose up between them, separating Cori from Micah. Angela reached forward and grabbed the Cori around her arm, quickly pulling her behind herself. From behind the wall, she saw Micah leap back, a scowl on his face as he reached into his coat pocket for his cards. Behind him, the Assassin had disappeared.

Angela didn't have the time to worry about where she had gone. She turned to look at Cori.

"See that corner over there?" she asked, inclining her head towards the corner behind them. Cori nodded, one of her hands tightly curled over her chest. "I want you to stand there. Don't move from that spot until I give you the all clear, and don't worry—." She paused, giving the girl her most reassuring smile. "—things'll be alright. You're safe now."

Cori nodded solemnly, although her wide eyes and pale face told Angela that she didn't fully believe it. Well, fair enough, Angela thought, turning her attention towards Micah. After the way things had worked out, Cori had every right to be skeptical. But Angela had no intention of letting anyone capture her again.

"Shell?" she asked, glancing down at the naginata beneath her. "That corner…"

" _Already on it,"_ said Shelley from within her soul space, one hand pressed to the side of her head. The space around her glowed brightly, numbers and equations writing themselves into the fabric of her soul. " _That space should be safe, as long as we don't overdo it too much."_

"Good to know," said Angela, gritting her teeth as Micah tossed a card onto the floor—Judgment. The card's face began to glow, the room trembling as a crack spread its way across the floor, moving from the Judgment card towards Angela. More cracks spread across the ceiling, the stone snapping above them.

From her corner, Angela heard Cori let out a scream, but she couldn't spare a thought for the girl right then. She extended her hand towards the ceiling as slabs of stone dislodged themselves, falling towards her.

" _Infinite Spear Strikes,"_ she said, reaching for Shelley's wavelength and binding it around her soul. " _Salvation!"_

Spears of wind formed in the air above her, crossing tightly on top of each other and becoming a shield. The stone slabs struck the barrier and splintered as they slid off of it, dust flying. She turned her head to the left just in time to see Micah taking advantage of the confusion, the Justice card already turning into a sword in his hand. The sight of it sent a flash of anger moving through her as she thought of Luna, as she remembered a flash of red hair, slender, silvery steel. Micah's _original_ sword.

She swept her hand out towards him, her open palm facing him.

Someone like him didn't _deserve_ to wield a sword.

" _Annihilation!"_ she barked, changing stance. The spears above her head disentangled from their shield, shooting at him all at once, an endless barrage. Micah leaped back, his expression unchanging as spears peppered the ground at his feet. The remaining spears changed direction when he did, pursuing him as he kicked off of one of the bookshelves, the shelf toppling as he tried to gain distance.

The wind kicked up around her, threatening to rip her hat from her head, and Angela spared a glance over her shoulder for Cori. Shelley's calculations had worked, the wind parted before it reached her corner. She was covered in dust and terrified, but unharmed.

Good enough. She looked back at Micah as he pulled another card from his cloak, tossing it at her spears. Light flashed against the card's face as it began to glow. Magician. The card disintegrated into motes of light, the light forming the shape of a hooded figure. It swept its cloak over the spears, a dark portal forming in the air between it and them. The spears sank into the portal, disappearing from sight, and the figure wrapped its cloak around itself, vanishing.

The portal opened up at her feet, the spears shooting out from it and rushing at her.

From her corner, Cori let out a scream as the wind struck Angela hard, throwing her and Shelley into the air. She managed to divert the wind spears in time, but the amount of force behind them was still enough to slam her into the library's stone wall, near where the wall met the ceiling.

The blast tore her hat away, the green witch's hat fluttering to the ground in the lingering gale. Angela shook her hair out of her face with a toss of her head, tightening her fingers around Shelley's handle as she turned to look for Micah.

There. She spun just in time, tightening her grip on Shelley's handle and snapping the blade up to meet Micah's sword as he brought it down on her from above. He put pressure on her blade as they started to fall, the two of them tilting so that her back was angled towards the ground first.

She scowled at him, tightening her grip on the spear and shoving with all her might, using the spear's longer reach and leverage to shift them so that he was on his side as he fell. At the last moment before she hit, she braced herself, thrusting the butt of the spear at the ground and using it like a pole vault. She flipped over in the air and landed a few feet away from Micah, spear tucked under her arm with the blade pointing towards her enemy, her foot sliding out across the floor in front of her.

A perfect stance. Mifune would be proud.

Micah struck the ground on his back and bounced, letting out a grunt of pain before kicking off the ground and launching himself to his feet. He was still holding his sword—that hateful sword.

She would fix that.

Spear in hand, she charged at him, the wind spears already beginning to reform behind her.

* * *

Morgan's room was on the top floor of the southernmost tower. Vayne cleared the steps two at a time, his heart in his throat as he leaped onto the landing, facing the door. The encounter with Mordred was still fresh in his mind as he grabbed at the doorknob, making his blood run cold. The handle rattled, but the door didn't open. He released it, pounding on the door.

"Morgan!" he called. "Morgan, are you in there?"

"Vayne?" Morgan's voice from inside sounded thick and soft, as if she had been crying. He heard clothing rustle from behind the locked door, and when she spoke again, she sounded a lot closer. "Vayne, what are you doing here? How did you find me?"

"Not important right now," Vayne said, Mordred's words still filling him with a sense of urgency. "Look, Morgan, I need you to back away from the door."

Silence. For a while, he thought Morgan was going to protest, but when she did speak, some of the strength had returned to her voice. "Alright," she said. "I've backed away."

Vayne nodded, taking a step back for good measure. Then he transformed his arm into a blade and swung as hard as he could, the blade's edge slicing clean through the heavy wooden door. He kicked and shoved at the remnants of it, shouldering his way into the room.

Morgan was standing by her desk, looking at him as if she had seen a ghost. She was paler than he remembered, and there were tears in her eyes, moisture staining her cheeks. Where her face wasn't pale, it was blotchy from crying, but he was too caught up in the feeling of seeing her alive and _there_ to care.

The moment didn't last. From somewhere in the rafters, he heard Quoth let out a raucous caw, the sound spurring Morgan into action.

"Vayne, I can't leave," Morgan said, the words coming out of her all in a rush. "My grandmother knows about the DWMA. I can't go with you. If I do—."

She broke off as Vayne stepped forward, grabbing her shoulder. "You have to," he said. "We all have to get out of here right now. This castle is rigged to blow."

Morgan's eyes widened, the color draining from her face. Whatever she had been expecting him to say, it wasn't that. Her mouth worked silently for a while before the words came to her. "What—what do you mean?"

"This castle, this room, _everything_ ," Vayne said, gesturing with his free hand at the room around her. "It's all one big trap. It's rigged to explode."

_With you in it._

He didn't say the words, but he could tell that Morgan understood, could tell that from the way she sagged, placing her free hand on the desk to support herself as she looked away. His jaw tightened, anger burning bright in the pit of his stomach.

"How did you know?" Morgan asked, her voice tight.

"Someone told me," Vayne said. "I'll explain later, but look, right now we've got to _go_. Okay? The airship's here. They'll be able to help you, and even if you're in trouble, it has to be better than—."

Than dying here. Than being killed by your own family. The words caught in his throat. He couldn't say them out loud, not without being sick. Instead, he tugged at Morgan's arm, trying to pull her in the direction of the door.

She didn't move, her head turned away from him. Her eyes were shadowed by her hair, he couldn't see them, couldn't tell what she was thinking.

"Morgan," he said. "We have to _go_."

Morgan shook her head, pursing her lips tightly together. She inhaled sharply, and he saw her shoulders tense, like she was about to cry. Above him, Quoth started cawing repeatedly, as if trying to raise an alarm.

" _Morgan!"_

A thumping noise sounded from outside, like something massive coming up the steps. Vayne's eyes widened, and he looked over his shoulder, putting himself between Morgan and the door. A shadow was rising, climbing the stairs towards them. As it neared, it resolved into the form of a giant, a heavy club in its hand as it shouldered its way into the room, fixing a single, glaring eye at Vayne and Morgan. Vayne grit his teeth, taking a step back and wedging Morgan in between himself and desk. His free hand, the one that wasn't holding onto her, transformed into a blade.

The creature raised its club, preparing to strike. Vayne sank down, getting ready to meet the blow.

Behind him, Morgan straightened, her head jerking up as if she had made a decision.

"Vayne!" she barked, holding out her right hand.

He couldn't ignore that tone of voice.

Vayne transformed.

* * *

Blasts peppered the hallway behind them, coming from the grimoire in Clark's hand as he ran. It was a smokescreen, meant more to slow Grayson down than to stop him, and it seemed as though Grayson knew it too. He charged at Clark, letting out a roar of rage as he tore straight through the blasts, his right hand pulled back and ready to strike.

" _Clark!"_ Cassie shouted in alarm, looking back over her shoulder. " _Behind you!"_

Clark grit his teeth in frustration, leaping to the side at the last moment. Grayson's fist struck the floor where he had been standing, tiles splintering beneath the blow. Clark kicked off of the corridor wall and spun in the air, aiming his foot at Grayson's side. The blow struck, but Grayson had evidently been working out since the last time they had fought each other. Clark's foot struck what felt like solid muscle, and instead of getting thrown into the wall like he had intended, Grayson took a little stumbling step to the side, looking up at Clark with narrowed eyes.

Clark managed to leap back in time to avoid being swatted out of the air as Grayson swung his fist around at his head. Something of his surprise must have showed on his face, because Grayson grinned, straightening up and turning to face him.

"Like it?" Grayson asked, spreading his arms out wide. "The boss lady's present to me. I'm not about to get kicked around by you or that Star bitch again."

"So she made you more of a thug," Clark said. "Happy for you, Grayson. I really am."

Grayson scowled, his brow furrowing as he tried to work out whether or not he'd been insulted. He snarled at Clark, taking a step forward. "You're laughing at me," he said. "I know you are. You're not going to laugh at me again, not when I'm through with you!"

 _If you can catch me, gorilla-boy,_ Clark thought, but on the inside, he was starting to feel uneasy.

If he'd had Vayne in his hands, this might not be such a big deal, but he was using a weapon he wasn't familiar with, using a fighting style he wasn't familiar with. The temptation to throw Cassie aside and go at Grayson hand-to-hand was greater than he had expected it would be, and he could list at least three different reasons why that would be a very bad idea. Still, it nagged at him, the power crackling beneath his skin. Grayson _was_ strong, and wouldn't he like to test himself against that strength? Wouldn't he—?

" _Clark, he's coming!"_

Clark's eyes widened, and he leaped back and out of the way as Grayson came barreling through, holding Cassie close against his chest and running past Grayson, further down the corridor. Grayson might be stronger and faster, but he was still more agile, more able to change directions on a dime. He was still better trained. If he could take advantage of that somehow, he might be able to win.

Except Rei was the strategist, not him. If he'd had a day or two to think about it, he might have been able to come up with a strategy that used fire, smoke, and his own hand-to-hand abilities to beat Grayson. On the fly, with an entirely different fighting style? Not a chance. If he had Vayne—but he didn't have Vayne. If he had a sword—.

_A sword._

A thought occurred to him, slipping through the quagmire of his thoughts. It seemed so simple that it made him wonder why he had never thought of it before.

Cassie could _manipulate reality_.

"Cassie," he said as he ran, darting down a corridor at random before Grayson could see which way he had gone. "Can you make me a sword?"

" _A sword?!"_ Cassie repeated, incredulous.

"Yeah," Clark said, feeling himself start to breathe hard. "A sword. Or some kind of weapon."

Cassie shook her head. " _Unbelievable,"_ she muttered under her breath. " _Clark, I'm the_ Grimoire of Reality _. Anything you desire, anything you can imagine, can be made real for an instant. And all you want is a_ sword?"

Clark ducked through a narrow servants' corridor, hearing Grayson gaining ground behind him. He chanced a glance at the book in his hands. "So that's a yes?" he asked.

" _Clark, I can make you a thousand swords,"_ Cassie said. " _A hundred thousand. All you have to do is put it into_ words _. Describe it, like you're telling a story."_

Clark grit his teeth, picking one of the corridors at random and running through it. He'd managed to keep Grayson at bay by moving quickly and turning often, but Grayson was catching up fast. "In case you haven't noticed," he gasped out. "Kind of being chased."

" _Then use a shortcut!"_ Cassie said. " _Something like 'ignis', for me and Morgan. Something that you and I both understand. Something from fiction, I don't know! You're a nerd, you watch anime, you live in a city where everyone has cool weapons! Make something up!"_

"Something from fiction—."

A thought occurred to him then, and he skidded to a stop at the foot of a large staircase, his eyes widening. Behind him, he heard Grayson barreling closer towards him, shaking the ground as he moved.

Cassie's eyes widened as she realized his intention.

" _No,"_ she said.

"Yes," said Clark, grinning. He raised one hand to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose, before he remembered that they weren't there, that he had thrown them off long ago.

From within her soul space, Cassie shook her head. " _No, come on, Clark,"_ she said. " _Not that. Don't—._ "

"Too late," said Clark, turning to face Grayson as the other boy burst out of the hallway they had run down, his expression contorted in rage and murder in his eyes. Clark held Cassie up over his head.

" _Unlimited—,"_ he began.

The grimoire began to glow. Inside her soul space, Cassie shook her head, covering her ears.

"— _Blade Works!"_

* * *

Shards of light rose up from the rooftop of the tower, rushing towards him.

Rei twisted out of the way of one of the shards, grabbing one of the Cloak's kunai with one hand and tossing it underhand at the rooftop below him. He felt the kunai bite into the stone and the cord grew taut, pulling him just past a second shard. Rei held out his hand, releasing his hold on the Cloak's cord, and the Cloak of Shadows faded away, Ayame transforming into her shuriken form. Eyes narrowed, he hurled the shuriken at Mordred, feeling himself flip over in the air with the shuriken's momentum. Ayame shot towards the sorcerer like an arrow, and Rei started to fall, gravity pulling him back towards the rooftop.

Mordred scowled in annoyance, sweeping his hand out to the side in an expansive gesture. Three of the shards that had been pursuing Rei banked, shooting back towards Mordred and overlapping with each other to form a crude shield. Rei rolled as he hit the tower's rooftop, distributing some of the force of impact and jumping up to his feet.

The shuriken struck the shield, the shield of light deflecting Ayame. It sent her spinning away from Mordred, towards where Rei had landed. He reached up his hand and caught her out of the air, breathing hard. He used the shuriken's weight and momentum to swat the seventh shard out of the air as it rushed towards him, then leaped into the air and threw it down towards Mordred.

This time, however, Mordred was ready for him. The sorcerer moved his hands in an intricate gesture, one of the shards that had formed his shield shooting Ayame out of the air with pinpoint accuracy. The other two shot into the air towards Rei.

Rei's eyes widened and he muttered a curse under his breath, feeling himself start to fall. On the tower's rooftop, Ayame transformed in a flash of light, and he heard her let out a shout of alarm, calling his name. He didn't have the leverage he needed to dodge the shards, so instead he grit his teeth and spun, kicking at the first shard that launched itself at him. His foot struck the side of the shard and he kicked off of it, hoping to use it to adjust the angle of his fall, but the second shard struck him from behind like a battering ram.

It tossed him down onto the tower rooftop, and he let out a choked scream as he hit the stone floor hard, skittering off the ground and rolling to a stop a few feet away. The wind rushed over him, menacing and cold at this height, and he felt it move through his hair, tugging at his clothes. He sucked in a pained breath and slid a hand underneath him, trying to get up.

A hand closed around the top of his head, fingers threading their way through his hair and pulling. A sharp pain shot across the surface of his scalp, and Rei let out another shout of pain, opening his eyes. Mordred was looking down at him, contempt written all over his features. His other hand was extended towards Ayame, who was hovering in the air behind him, encased in a dome of violet light, and struggling.

"Pathetic," Mordred said, meeting Rei's eyes. "Have you given any thought at _all_ to anything I've said to you? About how pointless all of this is? This isn't a world that rewards heroes, boy. If you'd had any sense, you would have lain down your sword and fled days ago. I may have allowed you to live then."

Rei grit his teeth in pain as Mordred forced his head back, forced him to meet the sorcerer's eyes. He tasted blood in his mouth and spat it at Mordred's face.

Mordred jerked his head back, his hand shooting out and smacking Rei across the jaw, hard. The blow forced him back, and he skidded across the stone, his head spinning.

Inside her bubble of light, Ayame jerked forward, pounding her fists on the walls. "Rei!" she screamed, sounding like she was underwater.

Rei coughed, forcing a ragged breath through his lungs as he looked up at Mordred, peering at him through the hair that had fallen over his eyes. The sorcerer had gotten back to his feet, wiping at his face with a disgusted scowl.

"Yeah," Rei heard himself say, his voice hoarse and shaking. "Yeah, maybe you had a point. Maybe there isn't any reason for me to be here. Maybe we _are_ the same, just soldiers fighting for the causes we were born to believe in. But that doesn't matter." He breathed deep, feeling something shift in his jaw, his vision wavering. "I'm not here because of Shinigami, or the fate of the world, or anything like that. I'm here because of the people _I_ care about, because of the people _I_ love. And if this world that we live in doesn't respect that, then—then I guess I'm just going to have to change the world."

"Change the world?" Mordred repeated, his eyes narrowing at Rei. "That's a laugh. You couldn't even change yourself. At the end of the day, you're still the broken boy I left lying on the ground, not so long ago. Goodbye, Rei Evans."

He waved his hand towards Rei in a dismissive gesture, a blast of force rushing along the tower's floor towards him. It struck him hard, sweeping him into the air, pitching him over the side of the tower.

Inside her bubble, Ayame screamed.

 _You're wrong…_ Rei thought, bracing himself against the impact of the blast. _I've already changed myself._

But it didn't matter, because he was already falling.

* * *

Souls fluttered through Maka's awareness one after another, a hundred incandescent lights, their names and presences fluttering through her mind like strands of thread. Micah, Shelley, Angela and Cori a floor above her, Clark and Cassie and Grayson two floors up, Vayne and Morgan locked up in their tower room, Rei, Ayame, and Mordred on the rooftop far above their heads, Kid moving through the castle searching for the Morrigan. Soul Perception hadn't worked right when she had first set foot into the castle, but she had managed to filter out the white noise, managed to bring those lights back into focus. The Morrigan had tried to hide the twins, but she couldn't.

She couldn't hide them from her.

Cori was fine. The situation she was in, the situation that Maka could sense, wasn't what she would have called a _good_ situation. Any other day, she would have already been running over there, to snatch her daughter out of harm's way. Any other day, she would have been halfway to the rooftop by now to protect her son. But there was only one of her, only one of Soul, and the situation had forced her to make some tough choices. Cori was fine. She was with Angela and Shelley, she wasn't being locked up or restrained, she had people looking out for her. And Rei—as much as it killed her, Rei had come here of his own free will, as a meister in his own right. She just had to believe in him.

But Annie…Annie was a different story.

Maka skidded to a stop as she rounded the corner, Soul's scythe form resting comfortably in her hands, fever warm with an eagerness to enter the battle. Ahead of her, Annie's soul burned bright, both in her mind and in her vision. Her daughter twisted towards her, hope and terror mingling in her eyes, and her captor smirked, adjusting her hold around the little girl's body.

"I should have known my tricks wouldn't have stopped you for long," the Morrigan said, running the tip of one claw-like fingernail across Annie's cheek. "You really are annoyingly tenacious, Maka dear."

There was something on Annie's upper arm, peeking out from underneath her clothing. A bandage, stained gray. Fresh.

Maka tightened her grip on Soul's handle, seeing red.


	44. Fata Morgana Pt. 4, The Path I Choose

**CHAPTER FORTY-THREE**

**Fata Morgana Pt. 4, The Path I Choose**

* * *

Rei was falling.

The wind whipped around him as he fell, cold and harsh, the gray bulk of the castle fading away. Above him, he heard a sound like breaking glass, heard someone shout his name. He felt his awareness slipping away, the net of his Soul Perception receding with him as he plummeted towards the ground. At first he could feel only Mordred, then he felt Vayne and Morgan, the airship, the souls of the DWMA operatives that were waiting for their chance to enter the castle. One by one, those lights faded away, starting from the farthest ones, and then he was alone.

He tilted his head back, his stomach lurching as he fell through the sky. The ground was still a long way off. The castle and the airship were far away, and getting farther. He should have been terrified, he should have been screaming. But from this high up, none of this felt real.

_This is it,_ he thought, testing the words out in his mind. _This is how I die._

His eyes started to close. Faces flashed through his mind as the world disappeared behind a curtain of black, his sisters, his parents, his friends.

_I'm sorry, Annie, Cori, Mom, Dad…_

_Everyone…_

_Ayame…_

Ayame.

Light flared into the empty net of his Soul Perception, a single bright pinprick. Arms wrapped around his neck, something warm pressing against his chest. He opened his eyes, inhaling deeply in surprise.

Ayame was falling with him, her arms wrapped tightly around him. His mind worked, putting together the sound of breaking glass, the shape that had leaped off the top of the tower. Ayame had broken away from Mordred's hold, had leaped from the tower to catch him. But for what? She was shouting in his ear, but the roar of the wind was stealing her voice. For a moment, he couldn't hear her—

—and then he could.

"—Rei!" she was shouting, her voice sounding small and far away. "Don't give up! Don't give up, Rei!"

_Don't give up._

He didn't want to, but—he didn't see what else they could do. They were too far away from the castle. Even the Cloak of Shadows didn't have the reach they needed to get back to where they needed to be. They were in freefall, alone in the sky. From this height, from this speed, it wouldn't even matter what they landed on. At this speed, water would be as hard as land.

There was nothing he could do. There was nothing _they_ could do. It wasn't a question of giving up. They had done all they could, and they were out of options now. He tightened his hold on her, opening his mouth to tell her that.

Her soul flared up inside her chest, a brilliant star. Power pulsed within her, resonating with something inside of him. His heart thumped hard, once, his soul pulsing in response.

The world slowed, the endless sky changing from blue to black in that heartbeat. He was falling through syrup, Ayame clutched tight against his chest, the orb of her soul a brilliant gold in the blacks and whites and grays of this new landscape. There was something in that light, a power that watched him.

No, the power was everywhere. He could feel it in the black sky, in the world around him, could feel it studying him, a presence that watched him from the beyond the black.

Time slowed to a crawl, a trickle.

Eyes of gold appeared in the sky, and behind them formed the body of the stag, melting out of the shadows. It turned its head to face him, and he could feel the weight of that gaze directed on him, directed on the thin wisp of gray light that hovered in the center of his chest, a paltry comparison to the brilliance of Ayame's soul.

A soul that just wanted to hide. That didn't want to be noticed.

A ghost.

No. What was it he had wanted to tell Mordred?

He wasn't a ghost anymore.

" _So, little ghost,"_ the stag said, the words echoing in the space around him. " _Now, you know who you are."_

_Yeah_.

Rei thought the word as he fell, a wisp of gray in an endless black sky. He understood now, or at least he thought he did. Who he was, and what he wanted to be.

_I'm not a warrior, or a demon. But I'm not a ghost._

_I still don't think that I have to decide—that I have to pick a path between those three. But if I were a ghost…I'd be helpless._

_I wouldn't be able to protect the people important to me. The ones I love. I wouldn't be able to change anything._

_I don't want to be a warrior or a demon. I don't care about either of those paths._

_I want to be able to change the world. I'll take the path that lets that happen._

_And if neither of those paths will fit…_

… _Then I'll just make my own._

Silence. He felt the weight of the stag's regard pressing against his mind, felt the weight of Ayame's soul against his own, the feel of her pressed against his chest. He felt time, second by second, beginning to slip away.

And then, slowly, deliberately, the stag inclined its head towards him.

" _Very well, Rei Evans,"_ Rei heard him say. " _Show me this new world."_

Power flooded through him, bright and hot. Time returned, color bleeding back into the sky as he started to plummet, falling faster and faster towards the earth. The bright orb of Ayame's soul had grown even brighter, larger, swelling until it filled the space around him, until it began to encompass him. And the soul inside of his chest reacted to it, twisting and writhing in the sudden influx of power.

It was euphoric; it was almost painful. Rei tilted his head back, his eyes widening, his mouth opening as his soul shifted within him.

The ghost, forced to reveal itself.

No, Rei thought. Not a ghost anymore.

The orb of his soul twisted and turned in his chest.

On either side of its smoky surface, two forms sprouted, stretching out.

Wings.

* * *

Morgan's hand closed around the handle of the pendulum blade, and as it did, Vayne felt himself changing. Her soul expanded to fill the space around her, her wavelength sharp and powerful as it flooded through him, his form changing to suit her. The blade seemed to fold in on itself, the massive pendulum becoming more like a slender dagger. A thin chain extended from the dagger's hilt, wrapping around Morgan's fingertips.

It was more a dart than a pendulum, but in this new form, Vayne felt lighter, able to move quicker. It was as if all of the energy that was normally locked up in the pendulum's mass had been released, as if a whirlwind of power had been unlocked inside of him. Morgan shifted her grip on the chain, catching the flat of the blade lightly with her fingertips as she drew it back to her side. She bounced on the balls of her feet as she took a stance, testing its weight.

"Hmm," she said, as if surprised. "Not bad."

" _Well, I'd like to say this doesn't happen often,"_ Vayne said, grinning. " _But you know—."_

Morgan rolled her eyes, turning to face the giant that stood before them. "Don't make me throw you out of the window, Vayne," she said.

The giant charged, raising its club over its head as it stepped towards them. Morgan raised her hand and lowered her head, muttering an incantation under her breath.

" _Corvus, fata, fata morgana…"_

Power swelled around her, turning into a cloud of shadow that hovered at her fingertips. The cloud spread out, forming a solid shield at the last moment before impact. The giant's club descended on the shield, bouncing back with a loud clang. Spikes sprouted from the outside of the shield, digging into the giant's skin, but the giant simply swept the spikes aside with an annoyed arm, the shield shattering beneath the impact. Crystals of shadow scattered across the floor, but by then Morgan was already gone, a scowl on her face as she leaped out of the way of the blow, her back to the window.

"Immune to magic," she muttered under her breath. "Of course it is."

And then, before Vayne could make a comment, she threw the dart underhand through the air, keeping a hold of the chain with both her hands as Vayne shot directly towards the giant's eyes.

The giant snarled in annoyance, swatting the dart out of the air, but Morgan simply adjusted her hold on the chain, tugging it downwards. The motion brought with it a change in momentum that Vayne didn't hesitate to take advantage of, banking sharply in the air. At this smaller size, he had more control over his movements, and the dart turned at a sharp angle, shooting straight for the back of the giant's neck.

The giant let out a frustrated growl, sweeping its club back in an attempt to knock Vayne out of the air, but Morgan moved her fingers over the chain in a movement that was both gentle and precise, and pressed down. Vayne felt her intent travel across the chain towards him, borne aloft by the currents of her soul wavelength, so that it was almost as if she was there with him, whispering into his ear.

His heart leaped as he followed, the dart and chain wrapping tightly around the giant's club and forearm. He grit his teeth, translating as much of his strength and momentum into the chain as possible, so that when Morgan planted her feet on the ground and tugged sharply on the chain, the whole giant came falling over, crashing face first into her desk and crushing the structure beneath it.

Morgan wasted no time. She tugged on the chain to unwind it from around the giant, making a run for the door. Quoth swept down from the rafters just as she reached it, claws digging into her shoulder as he spread his wings to soften his landing. In the room behind her, the giant growled, sliding one arm beneath itself as it tried to get up. Before it could, though, Morgan tugged the dart back into the hallway behind her, then raised both of her hands, one pointed towards the tower ceiling and the other towards the door.

"Be sealed," Morgan muttered to herself, swiping her hand across the doorway in a complicated pattern. The other hand, the one pointed at the ceiling, burst into flames. Dark fire hovered in the center of her palm, wreathing her fingertips, and the tower ceiling crumbled as she thrust her hand up, flames engulfing the stones as they came crashing down towards the giant.

It was almost an explosion. Vayne stared, looking up from the ground at Morgan as she lowered her hands, staring at the flames that filled the space where her old room had been. Her face was flushed with fury and exertion, and there was something on her face that he wasn't sure he had seen before.

A grin, almost manic as she surveyed the flames and destruction on the other side of her barrier. Vayne cleared his throat.

" _Uh—Morgan?"_ he began.

"I'd forgotten what it felt like," Morgan said, power still crackling around her. "This much magic, this much power…"

She exhaled, curling her fingers inward and flexing them again, sparks of magic dancing across her skin. Then, her eyes seemed to clear as she reached out, the fingers of one hand brushing against a black cord tied to her wrist. She wound the chain tighter between her hands, lifting the dart up off the ground.

"Come on," she said, turning towards the stairs. "Let's leave this place."

Vayne nodded as she turned, running down the stairs. She didn't look back.

* * *

Micah raised his sword as Angela approached, batting away her initial spear strike. The wind spears followed behind her, shooting towards his chest. His free hand moved, a card flashing in his palm as he held his hand out towards the incoming spears. The Hierophant. A barrier formed in the air in front of him, catching the spears and bouncing them back at her.

The spears parted before they could strike her this time, Shelley's glasses gleaming in the white void of her soul space as she extended her hands to either side of her. They reformed behind her as Angela shifted her grip on her spear, sweeping the blade beneath Micah's sword and slashing at his torso.

Micah jerked back, avoiding the blow. He left a card behind as he leaped backward, the card hovering in the air where it had been. Angela had half a second to glimpse the image inscribed into it—The Sun—before the light that surrounded the card spread, forming a ball of searing hot fire. It shot towards her, enormous in the enclosed space, filling up her vision. From somewhere behind her, she heard Cori scream.

Angela's eyes widened, and she leaped backwards towards the girl, the wind pushing her onward as the flames rushed towards them both. She let go of her spear, the point thrusting down into the ground as she wrapped her arms around the girl's shoulders.

" _Infinite Spear Strikes: Salvation!"_ she shouted, shutting her eyes.

An array of spears appeared in the space beside the spear she had thrust into the ground, four of them in all forming a half circle around her and Cori. In the last instant before the flames struck, a wall of wind rose up between the spears, the flames striking the wall.

The world turned white behind her eyelids, and Angela could feel the heat of the flames against her back. Beneath her grip, Cori went tense. Angela could hear the little girl's breath coming hard and fast in her ear, her heart racing.

Then it was over. The roar of the flames died down, the heat dying with it. She opened her eyes and spun quickly, turning to face Micah. He stood on the other side of the burned and gutted library, his eyes sweeping over the shelves and walls with a look of regret. For a moment, he seemed to have forgotten that she was there.

The Sun card drifted to the ground, its energy momentarily spent. Angela stared at him in disbelief, pushing Cori back into the safety of her corner.

"Are you _insane_?" she asked. "You could have killed her!"

"A waste," Micah agreed, "But I was running out of options."

His tone was genuinely regretful, enough that for a moment Angela stopped. Then, she realized that his regrets weren't directed towards her or Cori, but to the books that had burned in the attack. Anger flooded through her, and she reached out and grabbed the spear's shaft with one hand, feeling the warmth in the metal from the heat of the flames. In her soul space, Shelley breathed hard, exhausted but ready.

"Are you telling me you didn't even care about Cori at all?" Angela asked, her eyes narrowing.

Micah glanced at her, a questioning frown on his face. He looked almost sad that she had asked the question. "Of course I care," he said. "But you saved her, didn't you?"

Images flashed through her mind—her first day at the DWMA, deciding to partner with Shelley, meeting Micah and Luna. Her excitement when Shelley and Micah first started dating, having to take Shelley's call the day that Shelley discovered the truth about what Micah had done, having to hold her partner while she cried and screamed and raged about the injustice of it all. Having to watch the light die from her partner's eyes, only to watch it come back slowly over a period of two years, only to see it die all over again.

It had been Shelley that Micah had hurt the most. But that didn't mean that he hadn't hurt Angela too.

He had hurt all of them.

She grit her teeth and sucked in a breath, feeling the wind patterns change around her, Shelley's ability reacting to the shifts in Angela's soul wavelength. Unlike most witches, her magic didn't have a destructive component. It was incredibly _useful_ , could do a lot of things, but it had never been destructive. Like Kimial Diehl, she had grown to maturity never having to worry about the Pull of Magic, at least not the way other witches felt it. Her 'Pull' had been mischievous, more a temptation to pull pranks or skirt the boundaries of the law than to cause any grievous harms, and even that Pull had been tempered by both Kim's magic and Mifune's teachings.

She had never felt the urge to hurt and destroy. To kill.

But now, standing in front of Micah, feeling Shelley's power in her hand, the way her wavelength fed her weapon's, she wondered if this was what the Pull of Magic was _supposed_ to feel like. Because for the first time in her life, she wanted to tear him apart.

_Breathe,_ she told herself, remembering Mifune's teachings. _Don't let him get to you._

"… _Angela?"_ Shelley asked, looking back at her.

She didn't answer. "No harm no foul?!" she asked Micah instead, incredulous. "That's your excuse for this? You could have killed an _eight-year-old_ girl, and your only excuse is that it didn't happen?!"

Micah scowled at her.

"I knew you would save her," he said. "I'm aware of what you can do. If you want to keep her safe, then stop fighting. The only reason she's in danger right now is because _you_ barged in here in the first place, trying to save her. And for what? She's safer with us than she would ever be with you."

A thousand words passed through Angela's mind at once, a thousand outraged responses. She was aware, on some distant level, that if she was thinking more calmly she would have tried to pick apart his words more, tried to see what he was getting at, what he might have been giving away, but at the moment she only saw red. Cori was only in danger because of _them_? Cori was _safer_ with Micah? None of that made any sense.

And she was sick of it. There were a thousand words she could say.

But at the end of the day, she didn't say anything at all.

She tightened her grip on the spear instead, ripping it out of the ground as she let power run through it. The wind spears that had protected her and Cori rose up as well, their points shooting towards Micah.

" _Infinite Spear Strikes…"_ she said under her breath. " _Retribution."_

The spears shot towards him at once, the full weight of the power that had been built into their wall rushing towards Micah. His eyes widened, and he leaped back, avoiding the first of the blows and summoning The Hierophant a second time to block the others, but Angela was already moving. She ducked beneath his shield, using Shelley's wind to speed herself up as she leaped into the air towards him.

" _Infinite Spear Strikes,"_ she said, stabbing her spear down. " _Dissection."_

The spear struck home, all of the wind that she had brought to bear focusing at the point of the spear's blade. That wind came apart, an infinite number of tiny blades erupting from the spear's point at once. It was a cruel attack, inflicted on a person. Her most powerful attack at close range. Easy to dodge, but if it landed, if it managed to find an unprotected point, the power behind it could easily reduce a person into a fine red mist.

Angela had never used it against a living person. She didn't use it against a living person now.

The point of her spear sank deep into the guard of Micah's sword, knocking the sword out of his hands with a twist of her wrist. The wind exploded outwards from the tip of her spear, tearing the blade apart.

* * *

Maka charged at the Morrigan without hesitation, swinging Soul's blade overhead with a shout of fury. The Morrigan stepped away, all grace and shadows, her arm tightening around Annie. She was still smiling as she landed on the ground, the fabric of her dress settling around her.

"Now, Maka, that was reckless," she said. "What would you have done if you'd hurt this sweet little angel?"

"We'd never hurt Annie," Maka said, her eyes narrowing. "Let her go."

"Or what?" the Morrigan asked. "You'll kill me? You'll find I'm not as weak as the witch whose soul powers your partner there." She inclined her head towards Soul with a nod, the smile never leaving her face.

"Huh, that's interesting," Maka said, tucking Soul's handle under her arm as she shifted her grip on him to one hand, the scythe blade stretched out to her side. "You'll find we aren't as weak as we were when we killed her."

The Morrigan's smile widened, threatening to split her face in two. In her arms, Annie squirmed, struggling to break free. The Morrigan tightened her grip on her, and Annie let out a pained squeak, falling still.

"You never fail to amuse me," the Morrigan said. "But I'm afraid we're out of time. Give your Shinigami my regards."

" _Maka!"_ Soul said, his eyes wide with warning.

Maka's eyes widened as she saw the Morrigan reach back, her hand passing through a shadow behind her. The shadow stretched and grew, becoming a thin portal the Morrigan's height, a tear in the fabric of reality. She reached for her Anti-Magic Wavelength, charging forward with a shout of rage.

"No!" she screamed, stretching out her free hand towards Annie, struggling to send that power forth, to stop the Morrigan from stepping through the portal.

Annie pulled her arm out of the Morrigan's grasp, her eyes wide and face wet with tears as she stretched her hand out, reaching for Maka.

"Mama!" she screamed, leaning forward.

Their fingertips brushed against each other's. Maka saw Annie start to glow, start to transform. She raised her hand, ready to catch her daughter's weapon form.

Then the Morrigan fell backward, dragging Annie with her through the portal. Annie screamed as the portal rose up to engulf her, the light around her fading. Maka spurred herself forward, her eyes wide, her hand outstretched as she tried to will herself to go faster, _faster_ as Annie started sinking, shadows encircling her.

She was so close. She was almost there—

She wasn't going to make it in time.

A black chain shot past her, wrapping tight around Annie and the Morrigan both. The chain went taut, pulling the two of them out of the portal. Maka's eyes widened as a presence filled the air, someone landing on the ground behind her.

Black Star grinned, gripping the chain with one hand, the other hand wrapped tight around the long blade of the Chain of Blackness, the sword curved wickedly behind him. He straightened up, his eyes on the Morrigan.

"Found you," he said.

* * *

" _Ah, why do I know what that is?!"_ Cassie shouted, pressing her earphones against her ears with both of her hands as light flared up around her, filling the void of her soul space. " _Why do I know what that is?!"_

Light emanated from inside the Grimoire, growing and expanding as it poured out into the space around Clark and Grayson, transforming it. Clark grinned as he turned to face Grayson, the book in his hands dissolving to create the illusion. An endless desert, populated with swords, their points stabbed deep into the earth. Grayson blinked, halting his charge as he looked around, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"What?" he asked. "What did you just do, Greysteil?"

Clark didn't bother to answer. Instead, he ran towards Grayson, grabbing one of the nearest swords with his right hand. He leaped into the air and thrust the sword at Grayson's face, already reaching for another. When Grayson raised his arm, blocking the thrust with the metal of his gauntlet, Clark quickly twisted around, pushing off of Grayson's arm and bringing the second sword to bear as he slipped beneath Grayson's defenses. He lashed out with the sword, slashing at Grayson's midsection.

Grayson snarled, shoving at Clark with the side of his gauntlet. Clark jumped back before the blow could connect fully, so that the end result was that he was gently pushed away from the other boy. He landed lightly on the packed earth, feeling the weight of the swords in his hand, feeling a grin start to spread over his face.

"What is this?" Grayson asked, gesturing at the field around them. "What the hell did you do?"

"I opened a book," Clark said. "I know that's a foreign concept to you, but try to keep up."

Grayson growled, his face contorting in anger and rage. "You'll pay for that!" he said, launching himself at Clark. He moved with lightning speed, drawing his hand back. Clark's eyes widened, and he quickly darted back, getting out of the way. The blow, when it came, split the earth where Clark had been standing a moment ago, kicking up clods of dirt.

" _Enough bull-baiting!"_ Cassie said, her voice coming from nowhere and everywhere at once. " _This is kind of an enormous working, so if you could—you know—beat him up already?"_

"Aw, but I haven't even said the chant yet," Clark said, looking up from where he was running away.

" _No!"_ said Cassie. " _No chant, no time! You aren't Archer, so get a move on!"_

Clark sighed, skidding to a stop so that he was facing Grayson. "Fine," he said. "Whatever. You win. Trace on, then."

"Shut the hell up," Grayson said. "What makes you think you can beat me alone? I've gotten stronger. I'm not going to lose to _you_!"

Clark shook his head, holding a sword in each hand as he faced Grayson squarely. "See, here's the thing, Grayson. You're not the only one that's gotten stronger. And, you made a mistake." He reversed his grip on one of the swords, readjusting the way his fingers rested around the hilt. "I'm not fighting alone."

He charged at Grayson then, a whirlwind of steel. Grayson's eyes widened and he stepped back, automatically raising his gauntlet to protect his face, but this time Clark didn't even attempt to slash at him just then. He leaped into the air, planting his foot squarely on the side of Grayson's gauntlet and kicking off of it. The force behind the kick made Grayson stumble back, and Clark used his newly acquired momentum to land on the ground just behind Grayson, slashing twice with his sword in quick succession. The blades struck home, two shallow cuts appearing across Grayson's back and shoulders, nearly parallel.

Grayson let out a shout of rage, spinning around to face Clark with surprising speed. Clark turned aside, shifting his weight as he reached up with his sword. He didn't attempt to block the incoming punch head on, but instead used the flat of the blade to deflect it, using Grayson's energy and strength against him. The blade slid along the inside of Grayson's metal gauntlet as he stepped in, slamming the hilt of the sword in his other hand into Grayson's chin. Grayson grunted, the blow making his head snap back, but he recovered quickly, planting his feet and letting out a shout of effort as he swept his arm through the air where Clark was standing. Clark quickly ducked out of the way, sliding underneath Grayson's arm so that the two of them were nearly back-to-back. He hooked his ankle around Grayson's own and pulled. Grayson went down like a sack of bricks, slamming into the earth.

Clark didn't waste any time. He followed Grayson down, digging his elbow into the space between the other boy's shoulder blades. With his other hand, he reached around, slipping the sword beneath Grayson's head and holding the blade to his neck.

"What do you think?" Clark asked, breathing hard and grinning. "Ready to give up yet?"

Grayson's reply was a roar of rage. He slapped at the earth with his gauntlet and turned, the energy behind the motion enough to send Clark flying. The sword scratched at the side of Grayson's face as he fell, but the wound was practically superficial, and Clark struck the earth hard, the blow almost enough to knock the wind out of him. He hit the ground and rolled, one of the swords flying out of his hand, the other snapping in half as it hit the bare earth.

Grayson charged at him, nearly incomprehensible with anger. Clark grit his teeth and scowled back, leaping to his feet and grabbing the nearest sword.

_Alright,_ he thought, feeling electricity start to course through his veins as he wiped dirt and sweat off of his face. _We can play it your way._

He turned aside Grayson's blows with his sword, stepping nimbly out of the way. As he moved, he looked up at the sky, searching for any sign of Cassie. "Hey, Cass," he said. "I need a chain."

" _What kind of chain?"_ Cassie asked.

"Uh—I don't know," Clark said, stepping back. "A long one. Look, sorry, can you—can you be Vayne?"

" _Wow,"_ said Cassie. " _Can I be Vayne? I feel so valued."_

"Well, can you?" Clark asked, turning away a blow to his face.

" _One ridiculously oversized weapon coming up,"_ Cassie said with a long sigh. " _Seriously, Clark, you compensating for something?"_

Light materialized in the space in front of him, between his swords and Grayson's next blow. Clark dropped the swords and quickly grabbed at it, twisting away from a punch that threatened to take his head off. The light began to shift and change, becoming a passable imitation of Vayne's weapon form, complete with chain. On the outside, it looked almost indistinguishable from Vayne's pendulum blade, but it felt—wrong somehow. Different. It didn't have any life, any soul. He understood as soon as his hand closed around its handle that it wasn't Vayne. It wasn't even Cassie. It was just Cassie doing her best to create Vayne's weapon form from memory.

But that was fine. It was close enough.

As Grayson charged in, Clark wrapped the chain tight around his fingers, charging forward to meet him. He met Grayson's punch with the side of the false pendulum blade and flung his other hand out, tossing the chain around Grayson's neck. He caught it as it came around, doing another loop around Grayson's waist, around his arms, around his leg. By the time he pulled away, Grayson was thoroughly entangled in the chain, and he let out a curse as he fell to the ground, landing with a sharp thud and starting to thrash.

"Oh, stop that," said Clark, letting a trickle of his Paralyzing Wavelength move from his soul to his fingertips. He jabbed two fingers into the small of Grayson's back, and Grayson tensed before his head lolled forward, his mouth falling open. The space around him faded into light as Cassie released her hold on the illusion, the light coalescing into Cassie's human shape as she landed on the tiled floor beside him. She looked at Grayson with alarm.

"Clark," she said, "Is he—?"

"He's not dead," said Clark, frowning as he flexed his fingers, his eyes fixed on the palm of his hand. "I only used a little bit of it."

The power was still there, still inside of him, still aching to be used, but he had managed to cut it off this time, to use only a little of it. It wasn't something he wanted to do again. He clenched his fist together tightly, feeling his nails dig into his palm, the sensation bringing him back to reality.

He was breathing hard, covered in sweat and exhausted, body and soul, but at least that was over. They had beaten and captured Grayson, they had managed to get away from the Morrigan's security, but he couldn't get into another battle. The only thing he could do now was hope that Vayne or Rei had managed to find Morgan, that someone had managed to find Rei's sisters. He turned towards Cassie, about to tell her that they should call for help with Grayson and head back to the ship, when he caught sight of movement out of the corner of his eye. Clark spun, putting himself between Cassie and the threat, his arm out to stop her from moving forward.

His eyes widened when he saw who it was, a wave of cold running through his heart.

Elaine Greysteil stood in the entrance to the hallway, the pale pink glow of the Magatama around her hands, her eyes, cold and dead, fixed on him.

* * *

The sky fell away beneath them as they rose, the wind whipping around them as they shot towards the sky. Rei soared higher, wrapped up in the feel of the power coursing through him, of Ayame's wavelength suffusing his soul, a fire deep within his chest. He could still see the stag's golden eyes as he rose, could feel the power that crackled around him like lightning.

Higher and higher, until they had passed the airship, until they had crested the top of the tower. Until he could see Mordred standing there, could see the sorcerer turning towards him, eyes wide with surprise.

Sunlight gleamed off of the bladed edges of his wings.

The Cloak of Shadows had been transformed completely, wings sprouting from either side of the garment's back. They gleamed black, feathers made of shadow and steel. The wings stretched on either side of him as he hovered in the sky, pulsing with the power that came from the little winged soul inside of his chest.

His Grigori soul.

Mordred stared up at him, surprise and disbelief written all over his face.

"No," he said. "That's not possible."

In response, Rei stretched out his hand towards Mordred, wind whipping at his hair and the fabric of his clothes.

Feathers shot through the air towards Mordred, a rain of blades. Mordred's eyes widened, and he raised his arms to protect himself, a dome of power and light appearing in the air around him. Dust rose from the rooftop as blades crashed down, tearing through the stone and obscuring Mordred from view.

Rei sank down out of the air, landing softly on one of the tower's crenellations. His foot touched the stone first, the rest of his weight sinking down behind it as he looked across the top of the tower, at the dust cloud where Mordred had been. The rooftop had been pitted and scored by the blades, gouges in the stone at his feet.

The wings retracted at his direction, slowly folding inward. Rei glanced at them out of the corner of his eye, flexing one of them with a thought. He felt the strength contained in this new form, the bond between him and Ayame. Within her soul space, wrapped up in this new Cloak, in the formation of these wings, Ayame breathed hard, her violet eyes gleaming.

"Huh…" Rei said, speaking under his breath. "Not bad."

" _Seriously?!"_ Ayame asked, looking up at him in disbelief. " _Could you_ _ **be**_ _any more anticlimactic?!"_

 


	45. Fata Morgana Pt. 5, The Last One I Cared For

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest chapter in the fic so far, which makes sense because it wraps up the Fata Morgana arc. There's one arc left, the title of which will be revealed in the next chapter, where I'm sure some of your questions will be answered~ Enjoy!

**CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR**

**Fata Morgana Pt. 5, The Last One I Cared For**

* * *

_In the depths of his darkness, he remembered Morgana._

_He could never forget her, would never forget the way she looked when he stepped into that hut in the desert that day, that little shelter that she had built away from the world. He would never forget that look in her eyes, that kaleidoscope of emotion when she saw him. Anger, betrayal, sadness._

_Defiance._

_All of those feelings in her eyes, on her features. And yet, she was still beautiful somehow as she gathered herself up, turning to face him. His sister, his twin, his brilliant, beautiful guiding star. He felt power gather to her fingertips as she faced him, the energies of the universe bending themselves to her will._

" _I know why you're here," she said, "Brother."_

_He looked away, unable to bear her gaze. His fingers drifted lightly over the mantelpiece, examining the dust that gathered there as if this visit was nothing more than idle curiosity._

" _Your…friend isn't home?" he asked, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye._

" _He's out," Morgana said, sniffing in disdain. "Probably for the best."_

" _Yes," said Mordred, and he was already thinking that he could let Morgana's lover live, if only he never showed his face. It would be against orders, but Mordred certainly couldn't be expected to kill someone he never found. His mother would be displeased, but she would eventually forget about it. "Yes, probably."_

" _She'll destroy you," Morgana said, and in the back of his mind, Mordred thought that she already had. "You know that, don't you? You know why I've done what I've done."_

" _I know," Mordred said, and he felt his throat tighten in a familiar way, a way that it hadn't for centuries._

I know why you do what you do, Morgana, because I know you. Because I love you.

_The words stuck in his throat._

" _Can't you even look me in the eye?" Morgana asked, her voice breaking for the first time. The slightest quaver, but it was there. "Gods damn it, Mordred, you're here to kill me. The least you could do is look me in the eye."_

_Mordred swallowed, gathering up his resolve. He raised his head, meeting his sister's eyes. She looked back at him, her own eyes wide. Fearful, he realized, which startled him. Morgana had never been one to fear for her own life._

_It was only later that he realized that the fear hadn't been for herself. That it had been for him, and maybe for another._

_The sound of the front door opening distracted them both. They turned towards the sound as one, hearing a voice cry out in alarm._

" _Morgana!"_

_A man ran into the room, the DWMA agent that Morgana had run off with, her ally in this rebellion. Morgana's eyes widened, and she raised her hand._

" _No!" she shouted, "Stay back!"_

_But Mordred's hand was already moving, power crackling into his palm. He loosed that power at the man before he had a chance to think about it, energy tearing through the air as it rushed towards him._

The dust cleared around him and he looked up, eyes fixing on the boy that stood perched on one of the tower's crenellations. Something had changed in Rei Evans since his fall. He stood calmly, resolutely, looking down at Mordred from above. The defiant look in his eye, that expression. It reminded him—it almost reminded him of Morgana.

The wings around him stretched out, preparing a second volley. Mordred's eyes narrowed in resolution as he straightened up, letting the light of his shield fade away. He extended his hand, calling energy into it, drawing forth power. Energy coalesced, forming something at the tip of his fingers, something shaped almost like a sword.

Rei's eyes drifted towards it, and Mordred saw him raise a hand, the black wings on either side of him flaring into light.

" _Zero Star,"_ Mordred heard him say. " _First Form: Requiem."_

The wings around him separated from his back, dissolving into light as they streamed into the palm of his hand. They formed another shape, a slender shaft appearing in the air just under his palm, one end of the shaft erupting to form a large, curved blade.

Mordred's hand closed around the hilt of his sword. He charged forward, blade flashing.

At the same time, Rei's hand closed around the shaft of his scythe. He spun the shaft deftly over his knuckles, the blade whirling in the air as he leaped forward, rushing toward Mordred.

* * *

Elaine came at him in a rush, the Magatama's pale pink blades gleaming in the lights of the hallway. Cassie screamed as she charged, darting away. He knew that he should have followed, but he couldn't do much more than stand frozen in place, couldn't do much more than stare at her.

"Clark!" Cassie shrieked. "Clark, get back!"

She slashed at him, and he leaped back, ducking out of the way as one of her blades sailed over the top of his head. The second blade came from his side, aimed at his neck. He raised his arm and managed to block it, his forearm stopping her own arm at the wrist. She twisted nimbly, raising her other blade, and he jumped backwards, narrowly avoiding the blow as her blade sliced through the air, chipping the tiles beneath him.

" _Clark!"_

He landed lightly on the ground, still staring at her with wide-eyed disbelief. She turned to face him, her movements slow and uncoordinated up until the moment she charged. Her arm swept out, blade arcing towards his face, and quickly leaned backwards, the blade passing an inch in front of his eyes.

He moved half a second too slow. The tip of the blade nicked the skin of his cheek, drawing a thin line of blood.

"Clark, I'll transform!" Cassie shouted, sounding desperate. "Just tell me what you need me to be! Clark! I need you to tell me what you want me to be!"

He almost didn't hear her. Elaine turned her head towards him as she struck, and his breath caught, his eyes fixing on hers, on her face, on her expression. In his mind he was standing on a street corner again, chasing after a woman's retreating back, his hand outstretched. In his mind, his father was running after him, grabbing him by the shoulders, holding him back while he screamed and cried, hand still stretched towards the retreating figure.

" _Mommy!"_

He could still hear his voice from that day in his ears, in the back of his mind.

" _Mommy, don't go! Don't go!"_

Clark froze, staring at her. Cassie screamed.

Elaine spun like a ballerina, the Magatama's pale pink blade slicing him open from collarbone to waist. He managed to jerk back just in time, managed to avoid getting skewered in the heart. Warm blood stained the front of his clothes as he stared at her, wide-eyed, numb. His hands went up, disbelieving, pressing against the wound on his chest.

Electricity crackled around her other hand as it came up, pointed at his face.

His breath caught in his throat, his heart stopping for a moment. Her hand surged towards him, lightning quick, and time slowed to a stop. Her eyes were perfect mirrors, a lifeless dull gray. They were nothing like the eyes he remembered. He could see himself reflected in them, small, pale, shivering. Bleeding.

The word slipped out of his mouth before he realized he had said it.

"Mother…"

The hand stopped an inch from his nose, so close that he could hear the air crackling around it. Clark froze in place, not daring to move, barely daring to breathe. For an instant, something behind her eyes shifted, the fog lifting from her expression. Her brow furrowed, as if confused, her eyes moving as if the whole world were out of focus and she was trying to focus on him.

Her mouth opened.

"C…lar…k?"

A giant raven swept through the air, letting out a raucous caw as it got between the two of them, claws pointed towards Elaine. The two of them stumbled away, the spell breaking. Clark slipped on the tiled floor, falling onto his rear as Elaine turned, darting down the hallway and out of the room.

"Wait!" Clark screamed, reaching out for her with one bloodstained hand. "Mother! Mother, wait!"

She ran around a corner, disappearing from sight. The raven banked in the air, flying towards the other end of the hallway. Clark turned, feeling his strength leaving. The raven flew towards an outstretched hand, landing on a young girl's forearm.

Morgan.

"Morgan!" Cassie said, turning towards her. "And Vayne! You're alright! Oh, thank goodness—."

Morgan swept past her, running towards Clark. Vayne followed suit, and Clark could only watch, still shaken, as Morgan pried his hands firmly off of his chest, frowning down at the wound.

"Not too deep," she muttered. "Thankfully. Cassie." Morgan held her hand out, and Cassie transformed without question, the grimoire appearing in her palm. " _A fully stocked DWMA first aid kit appeared in the hallway next to them."_

The air shimmered on the floor next to Morgan's skirt, the requested first aid kit appearing. Morgan set the grimoire down gently on the floor behind her, then popped the kit open, leaving Vayne to hold Clark up as she pushed up her sleeves, pulling out a roll of bandages.

"I know," she said. "It's not exactly a literary masterpiece, but it got the point across. Hold him steady, Vayne."

"You don't need to tell me twice," said Vayne, his voice sounding grim. He held Clark still as Morgan tugged off the remnants of his shirt, rolling the bandages tightly around his chest. She worked quickly, her expression grim as well, before she stood up, stepping away from him.

"That will have to do," she said. "We have to leave, and quickly. Vayne, can you help Clark to the airship?"

"I can," said Vayne, already beginning to shift Clark's weight so that he was leaning on Vayne's shoulders. He inclined his head towards Grayson. "What about him?"

"Leave him for now," Morgan said. "I can't carry him, and Cassie can only handle so many workings at a time. We can send someone back for him once we get back."

Clark blinked, shaking himself out of his stupor.

"I can walk," he said. "A little bit. You don't have to carry me."

"That's good, because I wasn't planning on it," said Vayne, giving him a tired smile as he started to straighten up. The smile faded as he looked at Morgan, who was picking Cassie's grimoire form off of the ground, holding it open. "We need to go, and now. Sorry, Clark. It's going to be kind of a rough ride."

" _Why?"_ Cassie's voice emanated from the grimoire, a beat before he thought to ask the same. " _What's happened?"_

"Long story short?" Vayne asked. "This castle's about to blow."

Clark looked up. "What?" he asked, groaning. "What do you mean?"

"My grandmother is planning to destroy the castle," Morgan said. "This was a trap."

His vision faded at the edges, but he grit his teeth, managing to hold on long enough to look up at the two of them. "We have to warn the others," he said.

"That's the plan," Vayne said. "Morgan, can you get his other arm?"

Morgan didn't answer, glancing down at the grimoire in her hands. Vayne frowned, looking up at her.

"Morgan?" he asked.

She shook her head, slowly, deliberately holding Cassie's grimoire form out to him. "There's something I need to take care of," she said. "Make sure the book stays open, or the bandages will vanish."

Vayne's eyes widened. "What do you mean?" he asked, sounding desperate. "What are you going to do?"

" _Morgan!"_ Cassie called.

Morgan ignored her.

"I'm going to buy us more time," she said, pushing the grimoire into Vayne's arms and turning away. "Take Clark back to the airship, and warn them about the explosion. Don't worry about me."

Before Vayne could stop her, she started running, taking off down the hallway. Vayne cursed, and Clark felt him tense beneath his arm, as if he was about to run out after her. Clark turned towards him in concern, ready to let go, but Vayne only scowled, clamping Cassie's grimoire form close to himself with his free hand and marching the three of them towards the airship.

* * *

The airship was under attack, DWMA forces fighting the Morrigan's conjured creatures in the courtyard that led up to it. The melee was confusing, but someone caught sight of Vayne stumbling out of the castle with Clark draped over his shoulder and Cassie pressed to his chest and the next thing he knew, medical staff were peeling Clark off of him, lowering his meister onto a stretcher and hustling him into the airship. Vayne spun around, Cassie's open grimoire form still pressed close to him, and tried to find someone who looked like they were in charge. He caught sight of Shinigami emerging from the airship, shooting at the Morrigan's forces as he leaped down onto the ground, making his way towards the castle.

Shinigami would do.

He ran up to Shinigami, breathing hard from their flight out of the castle. Shinigami frowned at him, his eyes widening slightly in concern as they took in the blood staining his clothes. Vayne drew to a stop in front of him, doubling over and resting his free hand on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. Shinigami turned to face Vayne, firing a bullet nonchalantly over his shoulder as he did.

"Vayne—," Shinigami said. "What—?"

Vayne held up a hand, cutting him off as he struggled to get his breathing under control. "Not mine," he said, tugging at his bloodstained shirt. "Need to—get out of here. Castle's—trap—rigged to blow."

Shinigami's brow furrowed, and Vayne saw him fire two more shots at enemies behind him. "Slow down," he said. "What are you talking about? What do you mean?"

"The whole building's a trap," Vayne said, looking up. "It's going to explode as soon as the Morrigan leaves. You can't go in there, sir. She's drawing you in. You have to get everyone out."

"A trap," Shinigami repeated, his eyes moving from Vayne to the castle. Vayne looked up and caught a brief flash of indecision on the other man's face before his face screwed up in frustration, and he muttered a curse under his breath. "Get to the airship," he told Vayne, his eyes fixed on something that Vayne couldn't see. "I'll call them back."

"There's a couple more things," said Vayne, straightening up. Shinigami glanced back at him, impatience written all over his features, but Vayne had already caught his attention. He had to press on. "We managed to capture Grayson," he said. "He's unconscious in a corridor on the second floor."

Shinigami frowned, looking back at the building. "I see him," he said, nodding. "Was there anything else?"

Vayne hesitated. "We…also managed to find Morgan. But she ran back into the castle. She said she was going to buy us more time." He clenched his fists, gathering up his courage, and looked back up at Shinigami. "I have to go back for her! I promised I'd—."

But Shinigami was already shaking his head. "No," he said. "It's too dangerous. Get back to the airship now."

Vayne's eyes widened. "But—," he began.

"That's an order, Vayne," said Shinigami, turning away. "If I can find Morgan, I will, but I'm not risking anyone else."

Vayne stared as Shinigami started walking forward, as he realized what Shinigami was about to do.

"But, sir—," he began.

" _Now,_ Vayne," said Shinigami, harshly.

Vayne grit his teeth, but the look in Shinigami's eye told him that the conversation was over. He turned around, hating himself for it with every step as he ran back towards the airship.

* * *

The Morrigan's eyes widened as Black Star faced her, actual surprise appearing on her expression for the first time. Wrapped up in her arms, Annie renewed her struggles, squirming frantically as she tried to reach out for her mother.

The Morrigan recovered quickly. She tightened her grip on the girl, fingers digging lightly into the flesh of Annie's arm. Annie gasped, going rigid with fear as the Morrigan stretched out a hand towards Black Star, the shadows around her forming the shape of an army of crows as they charged at the warrior.

Black Star scowled as the crows approached, widening his stance. He swept his arm out, slicing the shadows apart in one great sweep of the Chain of Blackness. Maka, meanwhile, took the opportunity to dart forward, swinging Soul overhead as she brought the blade down towards the Morrigan.

The crow witch smirked, snapping her fingers. The shadows beneath Maka suddenly rose up, forming a series of ropes that grabbed her by the arms and legs, pinning her arms to her back. Maka's eyes widened, and she let out a shout of fury, struggling against the bonds as they slammed her hard onto the ground.

" _Maka!"_ Soul yelled, anger and worry radiating from the scythe in her hand.

"Mama!" Annie shouted, alarmed. "Mama, get— _mmph!"_

"Shh," the Morrigan said, a smile on her face as a tendril of shadow parted from the mass around her, covering Annie's mouth. "This will all be over soon."

At that same moment, Black Star leaped into the air, slashing at the Morrigan's side. She slid back gracefully, keeping Annie in front of her as she held out her hand, Black Star's strike hitting an invisible wall. On the ground in front of her, Maka grit her teeth, pulling one arm free of its bindings and using her free hand to tug at the shadows holding her down.

Two gunshots rang out through the air, blasts peppering the shield that the Morrigan held out in front of her. Black Star and Maka looked up at the same time as Kid leaped into the hallway, pistols held out in front of him. He landed between Maka and Black Star, a frown on his face as he pointed the guns at the Morrigan.

Black Star grinned at him.

"Took you long enough," he said, as on Kid's other side, Maka shook herself free of the shadows, drawing herself to her feet.

The Morrigan scowled, eyes moving over the three of them as they assembled to stand against her.

"Well," she said. "This has gotten _entirely_ too annoying. Be gone."

She moved her hand, a dismissive flicking motion. A whirlwind of darkness formed up behind her, rushing towards the three of them.

"Tch," Black Star said, sinking down low and holding Tsubaki's weapon form out in front of him. "Lady, it's going to take more than that."

"Maka!" Kid said, his eyes darting towards her as he crossed his arms in front of himself, pistols out.

Maka nodded, tightening her grip on Soul's form and leaping forward in the last instant before the whirlwind hit. Kid fired twice, the pistols tearing through the darkness and weakening it as Maka brought her scythe down, slicing through the remainder of the attack. She landed neatly on the ground, sprinting towards the Morrigan with a cry of fury. Black Star, meanwhile, jumped forward, kicking off of the wall and angling himself so that he was flying towards the Morrigan from the side, arm raised to slash down at her. The two of them neared, moving to pin her between them as Kid raised his pistols again.

Then the Morrigan stepped back, her back resting against against the fragile pane of glass behind her. Against the window.

Maka's eyes widened as she realized what the Morrigan was about to do.

"No!" she shouted, stretching out a hand.

But it was too late. The Morrigan stepped backward, and then, with a final smirk at the three of them, the glass behind her shattered, shadows tearing through it as she stepped out into the air. Behind her gag, Annie let out a high-pitched, terrified scream. Gravity asserted itself as she plummeted, disappearing from sight.

"Annie!" Maka shouted, running up to the window. She braced her hand on the windowsill, heedless of the way a shard of glass pierced through the fabric of her glove, and made to jump out.

Before she could, darkness swallowed the figure of the falling Morrigan, and when it cleared, both she and Annie were gone.

Maka grit her teeth, about to leap after her anyway, but Kid surged forward, grabbing her arm and pulling her back into the hallway.

"Kid-!" Maka said, preparing to argue.

"The castle is about to explode," Kid said, cutting her off. "We need to evacuate the others. I've already sent out a message to the other teams."

Maka stared at him, momentarily uncomprehending. Then, her eyes widened as his meaning sunk in, and she pulled away from him, placing a hand to the side of her head as she activated her Soul Perception. The castle spread out above and around her, clear for the first time since she had set foot in it. She couldn't feel Annie and the Morrigan anywhere near them, but now that the Morrigan was gone, she _could_ feel the energy that had built up in the castle's basement, ready to explode. She could feel Angela and Shelley and Cori, could feel Rei on the rooftop, fighting Mordred, his soul entangled in resonance with Ayame's. She could feel Grayson, unconscious in one of the hallways. And she could feel Morgan, moving steadily towards that point of energy, her Witch's Soul fully unveiled.

She turned towards Kid, who had drawn himself to his full height, staring down the hallway they had just come from. She knew that he had sensed the same things, that he had felt it too.

"Black Star, Tsubaki," he said. "Help Rei and Ayame. Maka, Soul, go to Angela and Shelley."

Black Star rolled his eyes, looking disappointed as he propped the flat of the Chain of Blackness's blade against his shoulder. "Come on," he said. "The kids've got it."

At the same time, Maka asked, "What about you?"

Kid didn't answer, running off down the hallway, but Maka knew. He was heading towards that point of light in the basement, that one soul running _towards_ the danger.

He was heading towards Morgan.

* * *

Micah's eyes widened as the sword disintegrated, shreds of the Justice card littering the floor of the room. He leaped back quickly as Angela snapped the blade of her staff up to bear, the tip pointed at his face. She shifted stance, and he reached into the inside of his coat as the wind spears rushed at him again. The Magician card appeared a second time, glowing brightly in the air before sweeping up her wind spears in its cloak, but this time Angela was ready.

She leaped into the air, twisting nimbly out of the way of her wind spears and landing on the ground, legs spread to absorb the impact of her fall and her spear closed lightly in one hand.

Micah was reaching for another card. She saw him fish it out of the inside pocket of his coat, something like panic in his expression as he fumbled for it. She caught sight of the face of the card as he turned towards her, saw the desperation reflected in his wide red eyes.

Death.

A wave of cold ran through her, and she tensed, tightening her grip on her spear.

"I didn't want to do this," Micah said, his face pale. "But you've forced my hand. I'm sorry."

Her eyes moved to her side, unbidden, towards the corner where Cori was waiting. If this attack was anything like the Sun card earlier, then she would have to protect Cori. And if it wasn't, then she had to focus on protecting herself. Her mind was racing, her heart pounding as Micah raised the card over his head, the surface of the card beginning to glow.

All at once, he stopped, the energy that had been gathering around him fizzling out. He lowered the hand that had been holding the card, pressing the other against his ear as a look of shock appeared on his features.

Angela hesitated, the wind faltering around her. From the connection between them, she could feel Shelley hesitate as well, lowering her arms back to her side in her soul space's white void.

"What?" Micah asked, his eyes tracking towards them. "You're not serious."

A moment of silence, during which whoever was on the line answered. Micah's eyes moved helplessly, moving from Angela, to Shelley, to Cori. He grit his teeth, as if the other person's words were causing physical pain. Cautiously, Angela sank down, pointing her spear at him again.

"Micah…?" she asked, uncertain how to proceed.

He swept his hand towards her in a dismissive gesture, digging in his pocket for another card. Shelley realized which card it was before Angela did. Her partner's eyes widened, her reflection appearing on the blade of the spear.

" _No!"_ she said, leaning forward.

Angela kicked off the ground as realization struck her, darting towards Micah, but she was too late. With one last helpless look at the three of them, Micah threw the Chariot card on the ground, disappearing in a flash of light. Her spear moved through the air where he had been, her outstretched hand following a moment later. Silence fell over the ruined library, oppressive and terrible.

They were alone.

"E-Excuse me," Cori asked a moment later, stepping out from her corner. "Miss Angela? Is everything—okay?"

Angela blinked at the child, unsure how to answer that. Outwardly, yes, she supposed that things were alright. Micah had left, which meant there was nothing stopping them from taking Cori to the airship. But the last few moments of that battle had been—frankly, bizarre, and that left an uneasy feeling in her gut. It was always a bad sign, when the enemy acted that unexpectedly. It meant that there was something about the situation she was missing.

The answer came a moment later, in the form of a crackling voice in Angela's own earpiece. Shinigami.

" _Calling all teams,"_ Shinigami said, his voice harsh even through the static in the background. " _There's been a change in the situation. The castle is a trap. Return to the airship immediately. Repeat, the castle is a trap. Return to the airship_ immediately _."_

Angela's eyes widened, glancing down at Shelley's reflection in the spear's blade. The look in her partner's eye told her that Shelley had heard the broadcast too. Cori looked between them, green eyes wide with concern, already moving rapidly between them.

The castle was a trap. That single fact sunk in, penetrating the mire that Angela's thoughts had become.

"Come on," she said, turning Shelley's spear form around so that the blade was behind her and swinging one leg over the handle. The wind obligingly began to pick up as Shelley concentrated, the spear starting to hover off the ground. She grabbed at the back of Cori's dress with her free hand, tugging her onto the space behind her. "Get on and hold on tight. The castle's a trap. We need to get out of here _now_."

Cori's eyes widened as she scrambled onto the back, small hands digging into the fabric of Angela's dress. "But what about Annie?" she asked.

But what _about_ Annie?

Angela felt something in her stomach sink like a stone. She looked away from Cori, unable to look the girl in the eye as they lifted off the ground and Angela angled the spear towards the nearest doorway. Annie was valuable to the Morrigan, even more than Cori was. If no one else had managed to retrieve her, Angela doubted that the Morrigan would have left her in the castle to be caught in whatever the trap was, but half an hour ago she might have said the same thing about Cori.

"We don't have time," she said. "We'll have to hope that someone else got her."

"But—!" Cori began.

"I'm sorry," Angela said, biting her lip. She leaned into the wind before Cori could protest, her eyes narrowing as she urged Shelley on. The spear shot forward like a rocket, wind roaring in their ears as they sped towards the airship, and Cori pressed herself hard against Angela's back, holding on tighter.

* * *

Mordred's sword came crashing down from overhead, aiming for the top of his head. Rei blocked the blow with Requiem's shaft, then slipped underneath it, letting the sword slide off of the scythe's handle as he angled its blade towards the sorcerer. Violet light flared up just over Mordred's skin, the scythe blade striking the barrier as Mordred stepped away from him. The sorcerer raised his hand, energy crackling into his palm, and fired several blasts of power at Rei, three in quick succession.

Rei leaped back, slicing the first blast out of the air with the scythe's blade. He spun it in his hand, knocking the second and third away with a quick twist of the handle. The blasts struck the ground on either side of him as he launched himself forward, leaping into the air and tightening his grip on the scythe's handle as he brought it down over Mordred's head.

Mordred raised his sword to block the blow, the impact from their collision spreading over him in a dome of force that cracked the stones beneath him. He grit his teeth, swiping out with the sword, and the force behind the movement managed to throw Rei off of him. He landed on the ground several feet away, sliding back away from Mordred, the scythe in his hands.

Rei's eyes narrowed as he adjusted his grip, feeling the power of his and Ayame's resonance moving through him. Ayame's face was reflected in the blade for an instant, black stripes twisting across her skin, her eyes narrowed in a look of determination that matched his own, and Rei could feel the warmth of her wavelength deep inside of his soul, burning like a fire. He darted out of the way as Mordred sent another blast of power at him, moving faster than he had ever moved before, and kicked off of the ground, launching himself at Mordred from the flank.

Mordred turned and managed to block the blow with his sword, but just barely. The force behind Rei's strike knocked him off of his feet and he leaped back, landing several feet away. The wind whipped around the two of them as Mordred straightened up, his long black hair flowing behind him like a flag. He raised his hand, a scowl on his face, and a circle of magic began to spin in the air over his head, growing larger and larger until it encompassed the entire tower.

Rei's eyes widened as blades formed along the edges of the tower, seven blades of light spinning in the air at the edges of the circle. Mordred faced him, the light of his magic shining in his eyes, brow furrowed with the effort. Power crackled around him as he started to hover in the air, floating in the space just inside his magic circle.

"Do you see this, Rei Evans?" he asked. "This is the limit of my power, and there wasn't a thing I could change. This world isn't made for people like you, people like us. It will only destroy you in the end."

He reached out, fingers closing around the nearest of the light blades. It was massive, taller than he was.

"Perhaps," he said, "it's a kindness that I'm here to do it first."

Then, magic crackling around him, he flew in towards Rei, slashing out at him with the blade.

Rei's eyes widened and he leaped back, blocking the blade with the flat of the scythe. Power crackled in the air as the light blade struck the scythe's steel, a terrible heat wafting through the air between them. He grit his teeth, leaping back, and had to immediately twist to the side as Mordred reappeared, a second blade in his hand.

"You can't win," Mordred said, swatting aside Rei's attempt at a counter attack as Rei tried to aim the butt of the staff at Mordred's face. "This is inevitable, Rei Evans. You can't fight fate."

"Who says?" Rei asked, snarling in frustration. "The world _can_ be changed. The only reason you haven't done it yet is because you've never tried!"

"Never _tried_?" Mordred asked, appearing in the air behind Rei. Rei raised his scythe quickly, managing to block another slash as Mordred brought one of the blades down from overhead, but the force behind it was enough to send him staggering back, struggling to keep his footing as he slid across the rooftop's cracked stone. "I _tried_ , you ignorant little brat! I tried, but in the end, I wasn't strong enough!"

Mordred landed on the ground and spun around, gathering momentum as he swung at Rei with one of the swords. Rei blocked it with the scythe's shaft, grunting with the effort.

"This _world_ that you want to change took everything from me!" Mordred said. "I killed my brother! My sister! The only two people I ever _loved_! This _world_ can't be saved, it can't be _changed_! The only thing that this world _deserves_ is to be destroyed utterly! Entirely! It's worthless! Useless!"

He slashed at Rei again, kicking out when Rei blocked him with the scythe's handle. His foot caught Rei in the torso, knocking the wind out of him and sending him flying back. He landed crouched on the ground, one arm wrapped around his middle.

"You have an impossible dream, you stupid, naïve boy," Mordred said. "It isn't worth fighting for."

Rei scowled, looking up at Mordred as he sucked in a breath through his teeth, holding the scythe in front of him with both hands. "You've got to be kidding me," he muttered under his breath. "The _world_ didn't make you kill your siblings, Mordred! _You_ did! You're the one at fault—you're the one who killed them!"

"Shut up!" Mordred said, sweeping his arm out in front of him. "You don't know what you're talking about! You're just a little boy who's listened to one too many fairy tales, and I'm sick of this conversation. Die."

He swept his hand out in front of him, the remaining three blades in the air changing angle and darting towards Rei, one after another.

Rei breathed deep, adjusting his hold on the scythe. He could feel Ayame's presence worked into the metal, could feel her spirit as her soul rose up around him, suffusing his soul with that warmth, that fire.

In the back of his mind, he was on the rooftop with her again, the two of them looking up at the stars. He could almost hear her voice.

" _I've seen you take a stand, Rei. If you were too scared to fight, that only meant that he didn't push you against the wall far enough. When push comes to shove, you're there, scared or not. You fight when it counts..."_

 _Hey, Ayame…_ he thought, feeling the steel beneath his fingertips. _I think this is when I want to take a stand._

_Think you could help me with that?_

He didn't have time to speak with her, didn't have a moment to say what he felt. Didn't have enough time, in the space between one attack and the next, to tell her what was running through his mind, but the feelings were there.

And somehow, he got the sense that she understood anyway.

He stepped back, and then, as the shards of light rushed towards him, he snapped the scythe in his hands forward, the blade detaching from the shaft with the movement. A slender chain connected the shaft and the blade as the scythe-blade flew, slashing through the shards of light. At the same time, he leaped forward, gripping the shaft of the scythe in his hand as he swung one end of it towards Mordred.

Mordred's eyes widened and he leaped back, arms crossed in front of him to block the blow. Magic crackled in the air around the scythe's shaft, stopping Rei from pressing in any closer. He grit his teeth, letting out a shout of effort, and leaned his weight against the shaft, pressing further.

Then he shifted his other hand, gripping the shaft a little bit lower.

The shaft came apart into a three-sectioned staff, the three pieces connected by chains. The far end of the staff slammed into Mordred's unprotected side before he could react, the sorcerer stumbling out of the way of the blow.

Rei slashed the staff out in front of him like a whip, and the blade swung back around as Mordred raised his arm to block the staff, Ayame letting out a shout of fury as the scythe blade swooped beneath his head. Mordred ducked beneath it, getting out of the way, but Rei was already moving, the scythe snapping back together with a touch of his fingertips as he rushed in, getting inside Mordred's reach, Mordred's timing.

He spun the scythe in his hand as he neared, seeing Mordred's arms start to move to block the blade. Rei could already see what would happen, already knew that Mordred would block the blow, but that that would potentially leave him open from the behind, giving Rei the opportunity to slip past him and land another strike. He saw the same calculations pass in front of Mordred's eyes as the scythe neared, the blade spinning upwards with the tip angled towards Mordred's belly. He saw the sorcerer's hands move up almost in slow motion, saw the first crackling of magic form just over his skin.

And then Mordred's eyes met his, and something broke in them. The rage and frustration that had been fueling him fled, and the man that was left in front of him just looked so tired, so…empty.

Magic faded away. In the last instant, Mordred lowered his arms.

Rei's eyes widened as the scythe struck home, the blade sliding smoothly into Mordred's gut. Mordred let out a small gasp as the blow knocked the wind out of him, and he slumped forward, his weight landing on the scythe and nearly dragging Rei down.

Blood dripped from the wound, staining the tower roof.

Rei stared at Mordred in shock as he started to fall backwards, the scythe blade sliding out of him with a sickening squelch. The scythe sprayed blood as Mordred fell, something hot and wet striking his cheek. Before Rei even knew what he was doing, he was starting forward, catching Mordred by the shoulder. Mordred gasped for breath, turning to eye Rei as he slid down onto the ground.

"Why?" Rei asked, tightening his grip. In spite of himself, his voice quavered. "Why would you do that?"

"Because I'm tired," Mordred said. "Because you're right. I killed them. Because I've had enough…"

He trailed off, coughing weakly. Rei shook his head.

"That doesn't mean you have to _die_!" he said.

"It does," Mordred said, leaning back. "It does. There's nothing else I can do…for her, or for them…Mother would have made me kill her too. I couldn't have borne that…this was the only way…" He stared up at the sky, his eyes clouding over. A pool of blood was steadily spreading beneath him, staining Rei's clothes where he knelt beside him. "You'll save her, won't you? You'll save Morgan…?"

Rei blinked, feeling his vision blur for a reason he couldn't name. This wasn't _right_. The fight wasn't supposed to _end_ like this!

"Of course I'll save her," he heard himself say. "She's my _friend_. I was going to save her anyway!"

"Good," said Mordred. "Good. She was…the last person I cared for…"

Rei let out a choked gasp, lowering his head. This wasn't supposed to happen. This was wrong—unfair. It was _wrong_!

A touch on his face stopped him, making him look up. Mordred was reaching for him, fingertips stained with his own blood. He was smiling.

"Why are you crying, Rei Evans?" he asked. "Weren't you going to change the world?"

Mordred stared at him, meeting his eyes. Then, his hand began to slip away, trailing blood down the side of Rei's face. Rei stared, numb, as Mordred's hand landed on the ground beside him, as the sorcerer's eyes glazed over, fixed on the sky.

 _This was what you wanted,_ a voice in the back of his mind reminded him. _You wanted to kill him._

But not like this. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

Before he even knew he was doing it, he sat back, landing in the pool of blood. Then he raised his head to the sky and burst into tears.

* * *

_In the aftermath of the battle, the house was silent. Mordred stood alone in the gutted ruins of the living room, his eyes on the bodies in front of him, feeling the pain of his wounds. He felt oddly calm as he pressed a hand over one of the wounds Morgana had left him, stumbling towards the door. An eerie sort of cold swept through him, as if the last vestige of his soul had taken refuge, his humanity hiding somewhere deep inside of him, somewhere where he wouldn't have to face what he had done._

_When he had killed Arthur, there had been tears. He had expected the same sort of thing now, but the tears wouldn't come. It was as though he had nothing left, as though they had nowhere else to come from._

_Perhaps, Mordred thought, this was what it meant to die._

_Perhaps, Mordred thought, he had killed his soul with Morgana._

_Perhaps there had only been one soul between them to begin with._

_And then he heard it._

_It was a sound that pricked at his ears, that made him look up, drawing him out of his shell for a moment. His eyes tracked towards the ceiling, widening with surprise._

_It was a cry._

_He stumbled up the stairs, still feeling numb, taking them two at a time. The cries were coming from a small room off of the main bedroom, a room that Mordred recognized as a nursery. On one end of the room stood a crib, a small fledgling of a raven perched on top of its railing. And in the crib lay an infant, crying out into the empty room. Mordred walked over to the cradle, looking down at her. He bent down, slowly, almost reverently, and picked her up._

_She was such a small thing, so light, like a doll. He looked down at her and saw Morgana in her features. Her cries slowed to a stop as he held her, and her eyes opened, wide, dark eyes looking up at him._

_From somewhere inside him, he felt the last fragment of his soul wake up, struggling to the surface at the sight of the child._

_He cried…_

* * *

" _Calling all teams. There's been a change in the situation. The castle is a trap. Return to the airship immediately. Repeat, the castle is a trap. Return to the airship_ immediately _."_

Shinigami's voice crackled in his ear, a faint, distant sound. He was aware, dimly, of footsteps at his side, aware of Ayame's presence as she knelt down beside him, gripping his shoulder tightly with one of her hands.

"Rei…" she said, her voice soft.

Rei didn't move for a few long seconds, his eyes on the sky. Then, feeling drained and exhausted, he nodded, getting to his feet. Mordred lay on the rooftop in front of him, lifeless, his hands stretched out to his side as he stared up at the sky. His soul hovered in the space just over his body, an orb of light so bright that it almost hurt to look at. Rei walked over to him and crouched down, passing his hand over Mordred's face and closing his eyes. Then he straightened up, casting out the net of his Soul Perception again.

It came easier this time, souls popping up at the edge of his awareness. He could feel Vayne and Clark and Cassie in the airship, Cori and Shelley and Angela quickly heading there. He could feel his and Ayame's parents together, heading towards them, could feel Shinigami. He couldn't feel Annie, which disturbed him in a way that he didn't have the energy to process now.

But he could feel Morgan. He could also feel, like a humming sound just off the edge of his hearing, the magic that had built up in the space around her, crammed in a space so small that it was ready to explode.

He looked back over his shoulder at Ayame, who was watching him expectantly, looking almost unsure of herself. One of her hands gripped her other arm tightly.

"We have to save Morgan," he said.

Ayame nodded, not saying anything else. Rei inclined his head towards Mordred's soul.

"Do you think a sorcerer's soul works like a witch's soul?" he asked.

"I don't think it matters at this point," Ayame said.

He thought back to the strength of the bond between them, the power that the stag had unlocked within her. Rei nodded. "You're probably right. But still, you should have it. It belongs to you."

"Mm," said Ayame, nodding her head. She reached out, her expression somber, and picked up the soul with both hands. Rei watched out of the corner of his eye as she held it close, as it sank into her. There was a flash of light as the soul vanished, and then it was gone.

He held his hand out towards her. His fingertips were stained with blood—Mordred's blood—but he didn't bother to clean them off. There was still work to be done.

"Think you have enough in you for one more?" he asked.

Ayame looked up at him, and he could see the weariness in her eyes as well, the exhaustion. But all of that faded, and the next thing Rei knew, her mouth was curling up in a ghost of a grin.

"Who do you think you're talking to?" she asked, clasping his hand.

Light surrounded her as she transformed, dark wings settling across his back.

* * *

The crystals were in the basement of the castle, embedded in the stone. Morgan ran as fast as she could down the steps, Quoth a dark shadow in the air above her. She could feel the power in the air coursing through her blood, a static charge against her skin. It was intoxicating, a pressure against her body and mind, and it hadn't even been released. There was so much here, enough power to turn this whole castle into a fireball. How had she not noticed this much _strength_ building up in the castle? How had she not understood her grandmother's plan ahead of time?

Vayne would have alerted the DWMA, and they would leave as soon as they could, but it wouldn't be enough. The Morrigan controlled when to pull the trigger, and the DWMA's airship had no way of getting far enough away in time.

Not without help.

She leaped the last few steps, skidding to a stop in the space between the castle's four crystals. They towered over her on either side, hulking behemoths of glass and energy. Her eyes moved from one to the other, taking in their positioning, the spaces between them.

Above her, Quoth swooped down, landing on her shoulder. The raven folded his wings against his back, waiting. Morgan stretched out her hand towards the nearest of the crystals, muttering an incantation under her breath. Light crystallized in the air at her fingertips, forming a wall that stretched behind the crystal from floor to ceiling. She fixed that wall in her mind, stretching out her free hand to the crystal immediately opposite from it. Morgan muttered the same incantation under her breath, reaching for power. A second wall came into being, filling the space behind the crystal and essentially pinning her between them.

She grit her teeth. That was two crystals dealt with. The problem was that there were two more to go.

The energy contained in the crystals couldn't be blocked entirely, at least not by a witch as inexperienced as she was. No matter what she did her, detonation would be catastrophic. That energy was going to come out either way. But if it couldn't be stopped, it could at least be funneled, encouraged to go in one direction or another.

The airship was hovering along the side of the castle, so the energy from the crystals couldn't be safely dispersed in that direction. And _down_ was out of the question, as it would severely damage a non-insignificant portion of the earth below. That left only one direction. Up. If she could redirect all that energy upwards, they might have a chance.

One caveat. She wasn't nearly skilled enough at magic to even attempt to do this sort of thing without being physically present, without being there to focus the barriers around herself. And once she formed that last barrier, she would be effectively locking herself in the room with the bomb. If she could even pull all of that off in the first place.

Quoth let out a loud caw, nipping at her ear and drawing her attention back to the present. Morgan winced, nodding.

"I know, I know," she said. "Worry about that later."

She fixed the second wall in her mind, then, holding her breath, moved her hand away from it to the third crystal, the one behind her. Eyes narrowed in concentration, she created a third wall, separating that crystal from the rest of the building.

One more, she thought, turning her eyes towards the last crystal. Once she sealed that off, she would be trapped in here. She thought of Vayne for an instant, thought of Rei and the others, of everyone she would be leaving behind, and felt a pang of regret, a sharp stab of fear. But it was worth it, wasn't it, to sacrifice herself here? If she didn't do it, they would all die. If that happened, she wouldn't be able to live with herself.

Morgan breathed deep, gathering up her courage, then shifted her right hand towards the fourth crystal, the one ahead of her. She exhaled, muttering the words of the incantation, the words that would seal her fate.

The fourth wall slid into place, violet light shimmering as a magic circle appeared on the floor beneath her feet, a barrier forming on the floor as well. As if on cue, the crystals began to hum, a sound that filled the air and set her teeth on edge. Light flared up from within them, a bright light all around her that was almost blinding. Morgan felt her heart pound as the magic in the air increased, sweat beading on her skin as her body reacted to the influx of power.

She focused on her breathing, pouring her power into the barriers on all sides of her, feeling suspended space between them as the crystals continued to hum and shake. There was too much power here. She was losing herself, losing her mind, losing her grip on reality.

 _Hold on,_ she told herself, her friends' faces appearing in her mind. _Hold on just a little longer._

Rei and Ayame. Clark. Cassie. Vayne. They could have hated her when they found out her secret, could have revealed her to Shinigami immediately. But they hadn't. Cassie had accepted her, had become her partner, had covered for her. Rei, when he figured out the truth, had kept her secrets. And Ayame and Clark…and Vayne…

When they should have hated her, when they had every right to, they didn't. They befriended her, _trusted_ her, made her feel like she belonged.

If she had ever belonged anywhere in her life, it had been with them.

For their sakes…she told herself, her head bowing against the power that surrounded her. For their sakes, she could hold on just a little bit longer.

Power crackled across her outstretched arms, so sharp that it burned. She choked back a cry, biting her lip as she struggled to stay upright.

Just a little bit more.

She could hold on just a little bit more.

" _Caw!"_

Morgan raised her head at the sound, her breathing labored from the strain of holding onto the barrier. Quoth had left his perch on her shoulder, and was standing on the ground before her, watching her with one beady eye. Her vision blurred. Quoth had been with her from the beginning. Her familiar. Her loyal companion. As far as she knew, he had been with her since she was born.

If she had one regret, it was that he had followed her in here, knowing what she was going to do. That she hadn't tried to stop him.

She opened her mouth to tell him that, but he cawed at her, silencing her. Then, before she could even wonder what had gotten into him, he spread his wings wide, flying at her face.

Light surrounded him, a bright white light that wrapped itself around her, easing some of the pressure against her skin. And in that light, Morgan heard a voice.

A woman's voice, one that made her breath catch in her throat, her heart aching with longing.

" _Morgan…"_ the voice said, "… _my Morgan. My dear, sweet child."_

" _Morgan…"_

"Mother…" Morgan whispered brokenly.

A hand trailed down her cheek, brushing away her tears. She looked up, looked into that light, and thought she could see a face there. A woman, with dark hair like hers and pale skin like hers, with clear gray eyes. She had her hands cupped around something. It took Morgan a moment to realize it was a baby bird. A baby…Quoth.

" _Be with her,"_ the woman was saying, her voice soft. Her hands were moving over the fledgling in a curious motion, and Morgan realized that she was casting a spell, laying a working inside of the bird in her lap. " _Protect her. I won't be able to, I can see that much. But someday, she'll have need of you. Protect her…"_

Then the vision faded, and she was alone in a sea of light. Quoth was hovering in the air in front of her, all dark wings and shadow. She couldn't feel her spell anymore, couldn't feel the barriers she had laid down, but she knew they were still there, knew that the crystals were still pouring their power into the room.

Except they weren't hurting her anymore. She was no longer in pain.

Quoth was. She could see the strain in his body as he stood against the tide of magic, the last vestiges of her mother's spell hovering in the air around him. Morgan stared at him, realization hitting her like a splash of cold water. She shook her head, eyes wide.

"No," she said. "No, Quoth, no—."

Quoth cawed in reply, his eyes on her. She could feel the power in the room building, building to a crescendo, but still Quoth didn't move. Still he hovered in place, the magic fixed on him. Him instead of her.

"No," Morgan said, tears streaming down her face. "Don't do this. Let go, please. Let go."

Quoth stared at her, fixing her with those eyes, those black eyes that saw too much and said too little. Then he opened his mouth, letting out a soft, cooing sound. The raven looked away.

The magic exploded then, the crystals coming apart in a wave of light and power. It knocked Morgan off of her feet as it flooded the space, erasing the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note on Rei and Ayame's technique names:
> 
> Zero Star: Rei and Ayame's second forms are collectively known as the Zero Star series (to contrast against Black Star and Tsubaki's 'Shadow Star'). 'Zero' comes from Rei, which aside from meaning 'ghost' or 'spirit', is also a homophone of the Japanese word rei, meaning 'zero'. Yeah, his name basically has all sorts of readings that mean 'empty' and 'out of sight'. 'Star' obviously comes from Ayame.
> 
> Zero Star, First Form: Requiem – A requiem is traditionally a Mass for the repose of the souls of the dead, but can also refer to a musical composition created for that ceremony. Requiem is also the name of Rei and Ayame's evolved kusarigama form, which is a standard scythe with a detachable blade that can come loose, and is attached to the shaft by a chain. The shaft itself can also come apart, becoming a three-piece staff, with the pieces linked by chains.
> 
> Zero Star, Zeroth Form: Nocturne – Brought to you by the Department of Redundancy Department, Zero Star's base form is called Nocturne, which is a piece of music traditionally written to evoke the idea of nighttime. Nocturne is evolved form of the Cloak of Shadows, which has resonated with Rei's Grigori soul to become a set of bladed black wings.


	46. Prelude to Lunacy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are now officially caught up with the FF.net version! This version of the fic will be updated concurrently with the FF version from here on out. 
> 
> So last chapter was a monster, and this chapter is a little shorter than usual. I'm pretty sure the last arc is going to have some longer-than-normal chapters though, so enjoy! (It already does, as the drafting for this story is actually further along than the reviewing at this point).

**CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE**

**Prelude to Lunacy**

* * *

The moments immediately after the explosion were a whirl of sound and color.

First, a shockwave of force emanated from the castle beneath him, knocking him off of his feet and sending him tumbling through the air. He screamed, but the sound was lost in the whirlwind of noise, blasts of concentrated power buffeting him as he struggled to remain upright. The blasts slammed into his and Ayame's outstretched wings, flinging him back into the maelstrom and making it impossible to stay steady. His stomach lurched, his mind spun, all sense of direction vanished.

Up and down reasserted themselves as a hand closed around the collar of his shirt, dragging him out of the blast. Rei looked up, mouth dry and ears ringing, to see Ayame's father suspended in the air above him, holding onto him with one hand and tugging him in the direction of the airship. Inside her soul space, Ayame whirled to face him, black stripes painted across her skin and the outline of wings hovering in the air over each of her shoulders.

" _Dad?!"_ she asked, sounding surprised.

Unlike the last few times Rei had seen him, Black Star wasn't grinning. His eyes were narrowed in a glare as he faced the airship, his mouth hidden behind the black, scarf-like shadow that was one of Tsubaki's weapon forms. The hand that held onto him had a grip like iron—he didn't bother trying to pull away. He opened his mouth to ask what had happened, saw Black Star's expression, and thought better of it. Rei turned to face the castle below them as he was hauled away.

His heart sank as he stared at it, mouth falling open. The castle's explosion had been contained so that nearly all of the force exited through the castle's ceiling, a pillar of fire and raw, concentrated power that stretched up as far as he could see. Some of the rooms and corridors on the fringe of the castle's perimeter seemed to have survived the initial explosion, bricks and stones washing off of them as the shockwaves continued to tear at them, but all the central portions of the castle were gone, lost in the blast. He could see the airship struggling to stay upright as it navigated the air currents, could see two misshapen silhouettes shooting towards it from the wreckage of the castle. He cast out his Soul Perception like a net, but the explosion was too strong, the waves from the blast tearing through the threads of his awareness.

Rei squinted instead, trying to identify the flyers the old fashioned way. The first group, closest to the airship, resolved itself into Angela seated astride Shelley's spear form, her head down against the wind and her hair whipping around her. A small figure was pressed up against her back, arms wrapped tightly around Angela's waist.

Cori.

Rei's eyes moved towards the second group and caught sight of his parents, his dad in his scythe form, wings extended as they battled their way out of the blast zone. His mom had a hand wrapped tight around someone's arm; it took Rei a minute to recognize that person as Shinigami.

His parents and Cori. The relief that Rei felt at seeing them safe was short-lived. His eyes moved back towards the wreckage of the castle, slowly widening as he realized one crucial fact, followed by another.

There was still no sign of Annie. Rei had lost her a little while ago, even before the blast, hadn't been able to find her in his Soul Perception. He hoped that meant she was far away; even if she was with the Morrigan, at least she was safe for now.

But where was Morgan?

* * *

Vayne watched as Maka opened her eyes, staggering back from the airship's window. Soul reached out with an arm to steady her as the ship swayed beneath them, his other arm wrapped tight around Cori as they circled the area around the ruins of the castle for what felt like the hundredth time. The other members of his team were gathered around him, watching Maka carefully, but Vayne couldn't wait any longer.

"Well?" he asked.

"She's not dead," Maka said, frowning in thought. "That's as far as I can tell right now. Her wavelength is really weak, but I don't think she's in danger."

"You have no idea where she is, sensei?" Cassie asked.

Maka shook her head, looking troubled. "I can't sense her through all of _this_ ," she said, gesturing with her hand at the bright flashes of light that still flared up around the castle wreckage, residual traces of magic.

"What about Annie?" Cori asked.

A pained look crossed Maka's expression as she shook her head a second time. "No," she said. "I'm sorry."

"She's probably with the Morrigan," Rei said, his expression grim. "Wherever she is."

"We know where she is," said Shinigami, his voice cutting through the conversation. Everyone paused, heads turning as they moved to look at him. He was standing on the bridge, his back towards them, his eyes on the distant horizon. "We know where she is," he repeated, his voice soft.

A shadow crossed in front of Maka's expression. A second later, the same shadow touched Soul's. Across from her, Black Star straightened up. Tsubaki's eyes narrowed. Vayne looked around, feeling lost, and could tell from the bewildered expressions on his friends' faces that he wasn't the only one.

"…What do you mean?" Rei ventured.

"There's only one place she could be," said Shinigami.

Slowly, deliberately, he stepped away from the window, his hands clasped behind his back. The horizon had gone dark, the day stretching into evening. An object hung in the eastern sky, dominating the view. It fixed them with a single gleaming eye, a grin on its face despite the blackness that covered it, and Vayne understood.

The Morrigan had gone to the moon.

* * *

Rei watched the silhouette of Death City grow larger on the horizon, one of his hands resting on the airship window as he half-listened to the conversation behind him. The ship banked, adjusting itself for its final approach towards the landing pad. Night hung heavy over the city below, the moon hanging high in the sky over the distinctive shape of the DWMA. Was it just his imagination, or was the moon watching them, its eye tracking them as they moved beneath it?

Was he just being paranoid?

"We'll dock for the night," Shinigami was saying, his voice soft as he addressed the people gathered around him. It was an informal meeting, just Shinigami and his weapons and the rest of Rei's parents' team and a handful of the others that had accompanied them, but it was a strategy meeting nonetheless. He didn't need to look behind him to see the solemn expressions on everyone's faces, the way that they seemed to stand around in clusters, each person drawing closer to their respective partners or teams on instinct. "Just long enough to get some rest and resupply. I'd like to be back in the air by noon. Anyone who's coming along should be at the airship field by then."

That was that. No mention of the threat that they would face, no need to go over what had happened in the past, in the years before Rei or Ayame or any of their generation had been born. No need to acknowledge the name that hung over their heads like a cloud, like darkness, the threat represented by the moon in the sky, the only moon he had ever known.

The Kishin Asura.

There was no need to, Rei supposed, his expression solemn. Not for them. Everyone standing around Shinigami had been there on that day, during that battle. They had seen the Kishin's power for themselves. They knew what they were fighting, and they were prepared to face it.

He looked up at the window, studying his own reflection in the darkened glass. Red eyes looked back at him, resolve and weariness mingling deep within them. He had changed his clothes and cleaned up since the fight, but if he closed his eyes, he could still see the last moments of their battle on the rooftop, could still see the blood on his face and on his hands.

" _Why are you crying, Rei Evans…?"_

Rei drew in a deep breath, his hands curling into fists at his side.

" _Weren't you going to change the world?"_

Ayame looked up from beside him. "…Rei?"

He exhaled, unclenching his fists as he looked up. Rei turned away from the window, facing the huddle of people gathered around Shinigami.

"What about us?" he asked.

People looked up, turning towards him in surprise, as if they had forgotten he was there. It wasn't just the people in Shinigami's inner circle. From across the airship's bridge, Vayne looked up from where he was standing with Clark, Clark looking up from where he was leaning tiredly against the wall. Cassie raised her head from her cross-legged position on the bridge's deck, weary blue eyes tracking him. Beside him, he saw Shelley glance his way from her position against the window, arms folded and expression guarded, saw Angela looking at him. He could see his parents' eyes, could see the mild surprise on both of their faces. His mother watched him with concern, and he saw fear flash across her eyes for an instant, saw his father turn towards him, saw his arms involuntarily tighten around a sleeping Cori.

He was the center of attention again.

Something shuddered inside of him, an impulse to hide, to step out of the spotlight and out of the way of their accusing gazes. He doubted it was an impulse that he would ever be rid of. But it was a mark of how much he had changed that it was so quiet, that it didn't define him.

It was a mark of how much he had changed that he could push it away.

"What about us?" he repeated, looking directly at Shinigami although the temptation to look at his parents when he was speaking was strong. "Where do we factor into this plan?"

Shinigami frowned in what might have been irritation, and for an instant Rei wondered whether it had been wise to speak up at that exact moment, but he was too tired to care. He watched Shinigami's brow crease, golden eyes narrowing slightly, and braced himself for the worst.

He wasn't expecting Shinigami to turn away.

"If you want to come with us, I won't stop you," he said. "Knowing all of you, you'll find a way to get to the battle regardless. But…" Here he paused, looking around at the others, at Vayne and Cassie and Clark, at Angela and Shelley. "I hope that you understand what we're facing. The Kishin Asura is a foe unlike any of the others that you've fought before. If he's allowed to awaken…"

He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't have to. Rei might have never faced the Kishin before and wouldn't even pretend to be prepared for this sort of fight, but he understood the gist of it. Asura, the fragment that contained all of the previous Shinigami's fear. The Kishin that had consumed his own weapon and had terrorized the world before being sealed away in a bag of his own skin, who had been reborn again during his parents' time at the DWMA, plunging the world into madness before being sealed away a second time.

Sealed, but never defeated.

He felt a shiver of fear in spite of himself, because no matter how resolved he had become, he still wasn't that brave. But then Ayame's hand closed around his, quietly resolute, and he knew what his answer was going to be. It was the only answer he could have given, even though he knew as he gave it that it would break his parents' hearts.

"I'm going," he said. "She still has Annie." Ayame's hand tightened around his meaningfully, and he glanced over at her to see her frowning at him, eyes narrowed in what was almost a glare. " _We're_ going," he amended.

"Us too," said Clark, with a nod towards Vayne.

"You're injured," Shinigami pointed out, inclining his head towards him.

Clark frowned, reaching up and tracing the bandages that peeked out from under his shirt. "This is nothing," he said. "My mother's going to be up there, with…with her. I have to go."

"You already know my reasons," Shelley said from her spot by the wall. "And besides, I'm no longer a student. I'm not likely to stay behind now."

"I—I'm going too." The voice was Cassie's, and so soft that Rei could barely hear it over the drone of the airship's engines. She raised her head, turning to face them, the fingers of one hand tracing the pale pink exterior of one of her earphones. "I have…reasons of my own."

She didn't say anything more, lowering her head again. Rei tore his eyes from her, looking back at Shinigami. He forced himself not to look at his parents, forced himself not to look at the one sister who had already been rescued, who was asleep in his father's arms, her arms and legs wrapped tight around him and her head resting on his shoulder. Shinigami held his gaze for a moment before nodding, looking away.

"We're about to land," he said. "Get some rest, all of you, and set your affairs in order. I'll see you tomorrow."

Tomorrow.

Rei nodded, tightening his grip on Ayame's hand.

One way or another, this would all be over tomorrow.

* * *

"Do you really think they'll listen?"

A woman's voice, hushed, uncertain. The next speaker was a man, tone solemn, words cloaked in an aura of command.

"They will. This time, they will."

Cassie listened as the voices drew closer, standing still and silent in the center of the Death Room. She could hear their footsteps as they walked down the guillotine-lined path, could hear the woman, Angela, say something to Shinigami that she couldn't quite catch. Shinigami said something else in reply, a soft word that had the edge of a dismissal, and then the footsteps started up again, one set making their way back along the path toward the main campus of the DWMA, the other set, steady and measured, continuing on towards the Death Room.

She waited.

The footsteps came to a stop at the end of the guillotine path. Cassie kept her head down, one hand resting on the earphones around her neck. The silence in the room stretched as he stopped, as he watched her.

"Cassie?" Shinigami's voice asked, a moment later. "What are you doing here?"

Cassie looked up, turning towards him. The leader of the DWMA was watching her from the outskirts of the Death Room, surprise in his gold eyes. He looked young, older than Cassie, but not by much, like Angela or Shelley. It was hard to remember that he was Maka-sensei's age, hard to remember that it had been over twenty years since they all had been students at the DWMA.

"Did you know what I was when you sent Mifune after me?" she asked, the words spilling out before she could lose her nerve.

Shinigami watched her for a long moment, dumbstruck, before he seemed to understand her question. He blinked, the confused expression vanishing from his face. His features turned grave again, the same solemn mask that he had been wearing since the airship.

He clasped his hands behind his back and stepped into the room, walking around the raised dais towards his desk. She watched him, waiting for his answer, feeling her breaths shorten, her pulse quickening. Feeling like she wanted to run.

She stayed in place. Shinigami reached his desk, nudging a penholder back into place, turning to look at her.

"If you're asking whether I knew everything about you, I didn't," he said. "I didn't know you were a Demon Weapon. I didn't know you were a child. I knew that a mafia group in Chicago had gotten their hands on a potent artifact. I sent Mifune to retrieve it. You know what happened next."

"You heard that they had an artifact," Cassie repeated, watching him carefully. "A Grimoire."

Silence. Shinigami didn't deny it. Cassie watched him, feeling cold prick its way across her skin, her fingers curling and uncurling at her sides.

_Run,_ some deeper instinct told her, an instinct from deep in her gut, honed from her childhood, from her years getting passed from hand to hand, being made to do whatever she was told, to listen to whoever held her. To bring fever dreams to life, to call forth nightmares. _Run. Run now._

She didn't.

Shinigami's eyes met hers. If he knew how hard she was struggling, he didn't show it.

"What's this really about, Cassie?" he asked.

_Cassie._

The sound of her name calmed her. Not Index, not Grimoire. Not 'brat' or 'girl' or even just 'you'.

Cassie.

"You know what I am," Cassie said, holding his gaze.

"I suspected," Shinigami said. "I wasn't certain."

"But you're certain now?" Cassie asked.

"Yes." Shinigami frowned at her, searching her expression, it seemed, just as much as she was searching his. "You're the Grimoire of Reality."

She waited. If she was wrong about him, if the instincts screaming at her were right, her life was about to take a turn for the worse. But she _wasn't_ wrong. He was _different_ from the others.

He wouldn't use her that way, even if he did know the truth.

She felt the silence stretch between them, felt a string growing taut within her. It was coming to an end now, one way or another. The endless fear and denial, the endless secrecy, the endless waiting for the other shoe to fall.

Shinigami didn't take his eyes from her when he spoke, his voice seeming uncommonly loud in the stillness of the Death Room.

"The second Book of Eibon."

There it was.

* * *

The walk back from the DWMA headquarters was silent and tense, the moon hanging high in the sky above them lending the scene a sinister air. Maka, following Soul down the DWMA's seemingly endless steps, had almost forgotten what it was like to see the moon as an oppressive force, a malevolent presence. In the days and weeks since the initial battle with the Kishin, she hadn't been able to look up at the night sky without remembering Asura and Crona, without remembering how things used to be.

But time had passed. Things changed. She had Soul had grown up, had graduated, had gotten older. Gotten married, had children together.

The moon had started to feel almost normal. There had been a time before this when she could have almost forgotten that anything had happened there at all.

She couldn't do that now. Now, if it wasn't for the fact that she was older, that Soul was older, that they had three children—one asleep on Soul's back, one silently trailing along behind them, and one _somewhere_ —she could have been walking in a dream. She could have been fifteen years old again, flying away from the darkness steadily encompassing the moon, screaming at Crona that she would come back for him.

She had always intended to keep that promise. Maybe tomorrow would be the day.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she missed when the stairs ended, when the path became level. Soul reached out a hand to steady her as she stumbled, looking at her with concern.

"Maka?" he asked.

She looked up into his eyes and knew, because she knew him, that he was saying ' _Are you okay?'_ and ' _Do you want to talk about it?'_ and ' _I'm here for you'_ , and ' _You push yourself too hard'_ and ' _I know'_ all at once, but there wasn't enough room to say all of that, so her name would have to do. She gave him a tight smile in return, shaking her head. ' _I'm fine'_ , and ' _I'm worried'_ and ' _We'll get through it like we always do,'_ and ' _Let's not worry Rei,'_ in one gesture. But her son wasn't young enough to be excluded from the conversation so easily. It surprised her how often she forgot that now.

"Mom?" Rei asked, coming to a stop behind her. "Are you okay?"

She looked back at him slowly, at this young man who was her and Soul all at once, who had taken their two halves and made something entirely his own. It was startling to look at him, because in many ways she still expected to see the child that she knew, but Rei wasn't that child anymore. It seemed like every time she looked at him, he had grown up a little more, and it made her very proud to see what he was becoming.

Very proud, and very sad.

He and Ayame were holding hands.

Maka's eyes drifted up from their clasped hands to their concerned faces, giving Rei the same tired smile. He was looking at her uncertainly, and with a start Maka realized that somehow the tables had flipped. That somehow, in Rei's eyes she had gone from his protector to someone he needed to protect.

_I'm not that old yet,_ she wanted to tell him. _I still have a lot left in me._

It made her wonder if this was how her father had felt, the day he came out onto the DWMA balcony to give her her mother's ring. To say goodbye.

"I'm alright," she said. "Just distracted. You should get as much rest as you can, Rei. Tomorrow will be a long day."

She didn't ask him if he was sure he wanted to come with them. She didn't ask him to stay behind, because looking at him, looking at this boy of hers, she saw herself and she saw Soul at fifteen and she knew that when it had been someone important to _her_ in danger, nothing would have been able to keep her away.

She knew that. Knowing it hurt. Knowing it made her wish, just a little, that Rei had been a little less like them.

And she wondered, as Rei looked away, avoiding her gaze, whether Rei knew what she was thinking too.

"Are you two going to be alright?" Rei asked when he lifted his head again. "With…" His eyes tracked meaningfully towards Cori.

Soul shifted, scooting her up so that she was resting more comfortably against his back. "We'll be fine," he said, giving Rei a lazy grin. "Worry about yourself."

Rei frowned, clearly not sure he believed them. Maka cut him off before he could open his mouth, before he could offer to spend the night with them. She had the feeling that if Rei set foot into their house right now, she would be hard pressed to let him leave it in the morning.

"Don't worry about your sister," Maka said. "We'll take care of her."

She realized as she said it that she could have been talking about either Cori or Annie. Maybe without thinking it, she had meant both of them.

Rei hesitated, but nodded. He turned his body in the direction of his and Ayame's apartment, then paused, wavering, it seemed, on the threshold between two lives, the life he had shared with the two of them, and the life that was wholly his own. He looked up at her, his expression momentarily helpless and for that instant he was a child again, _her_ child. He would never stop being her child.

"Good night," Rei said, awkwardly raising a hand, and because she knew him, Maka knew that he meant ' _Tell me to stay behind'_ and ' _Don't tell me to stay'_ , and ' _I love you'_ and ' _I'm scared'_ and ' _I just want you to be proud of me.'_

"Good night," she said. "Sleep well,"

In those words were ' _I won't do that for you',_ and ' _You have no idea how much I want to_ ,' and ' _We're all scared,'_ and ' _I love you too, and no matter what happens tomorrow, I always will'_ and ' _You have no idea how proud I am of you."_ She wondered, staring at her son as he walked away, if he could hear them. Wondered if he understood.

And wondered, in some detached part of her mind, how much of her father's words she had misunderstood, how much of his words she was still misunderstanding.

Wondered, deep down in the back of her mind, if it was ever truly possible for a child to understand their parents.

* * *

They left her in Rei's old room.

Cori knew that it was because her own room had been destroyed by the attack, even understood that, but it felt wrong now. She couldn't lie in Rei's old bed without thinking of how many times she had wished that she could move into Rei's room, that Annie wasn't so scared of being alone, that she could maybe have a little bit of her own space. It bothered her now, nagged at her that she had ever, if only for a minute, resented her sister.

Annie's absence was like a part of her being torn out, like a mortal wound that she didn't want to face. She hadn't faced it— _couldn't_ face it—had been faking sleep ever since they left the airship, just so that she wouldn't have to deal with her parents asking her if she was okay.

How could she be okay? She was here, and Annie was gone, and tomorrow, her mother and her father and her brother were all going to find her. She had failed to protect her sister, so they were going to have to do it for her, and they were going to leave her behind. And if something happened, if the worst happened, then Cori would have to be alone.

And as she curled up on her side, as she drew her knees up tight to her chest in Rei's old bed and clutched at the blankets and squeezed her eyes tightly shut, as she tried to feel out the stone that had landed into the pit of her stomach, the ice that had flooded her veins, she realized something. A truly terrifying thought.

She had always stuck close to Annie. Her whole life, she had stayed by her sister, resenting her sometimes, telling the world and everyone who would listen that she had to do it because Annie was too scared to be alone. But now that she was by herself, now that Annie was gone and her parents were leaving and her brother was leaving and she was lying in a bed that wasn't hers, in a house that didn't feel like hers, in a world that didn't feel like she belonged in it anymore, she realized the truth. That whole time she had been bragging and complaining and going on about having to stay close to Annie and protect her, she had been _lying_.

She was only strong when she had Annie to be strong _for._

_She_ was the one who was afraid of being alone.

* * *

" _Maka…"_

_The voice wove its way through the space around him, drawing him into awareness. He was walking alone in a black landscape, the ground beneath him scarred with pits and craters. An oily slickness spread over it, clinging to his feet as he walked. Rei looked around, feeling a wave of unease pass through him. Something wasn't right about this, but he couldn't tell what it was._

_He couldn't remember how he had gotten here._

_Was he dreaming?_

" _Maka…"_

_The voice moved through the air around him, making him look up. Above him, there was no sky, only an extension of the blackness. But the voice was there. It wasn't a voice that he had ever heard before, and though he tried to focus on it, tried to identify it, the details of it seemed to slip away from his mind as soon as he had heard it, making it hard to remember anything about the voice at all._

" _Maka…" it called again._

" _I'm not…"_

_His own voice echoed around him. He wasn't aware that he had spoken._

" _Not…?" the voice replied. "Not what…?"_

" _Not Maka," said Rei._

" _You feel like Maka…" said the voice, tinged now with something that sounded almost like confusion. "You feel…no. Soul? Maka…and Soul?"_

" _I'm their child," said Rei, not knowing why he was talking to this voice at all. "Maka is my mother."_

" _Mo…ther…"_

" _I'm Rei."_

" _Rei…" The voice paused, testing the name. "Rei…Rei, ray of light, Rei…"_

" _Who are you?" Rei asked, looking up at the sky. "What do you want?"_

_A cold wind rushed through the space, bringing a chill down his spine. Goosebumps prickled across his skin, and Rei spun around, looking for the source of the voice. There was no one around him, but he felt somehow as though he was being watched. It wasn't the intense regard of the stag, though. That, at least would have been familiar. This was something else, a presence that was as fragmented and confused as he was, so that he didn't know if he was dreaming or if he was somehow wandering in the speaker's dream._

" _I'm…? Yes, I wonder…I know Maka…"_

" _Are you her friend?" Rei asked, feeling frustrated. "Are you friends with my mother?"_

" _Friends…?" The voice lingered on the word, as if it was unfamiliar somehow. "…Yes, that's right. Maka is my friend…We were friends, Maka and I…"_

" _So you know my mother," Rei said, frowning. "Did you want to…to talk to her?"_

" _Danger…" the voice said. It came in and out of focus, like from a badly-tuned radio, growing closer before getting farther away. "Yes…tell Maka…danger…"_

" _We know there's danger," said Rei, getting frustrated. "Of course there's danger! Who are you, anyway?_ Where _are you?"_

" _Where am I…? Been so long…When am I…? Do you know, Maka…? Wait, you're not Maka. Who are you…?"_

" _I'm Maka's son," said Rei. "I was asking you who_ you _are."_

" _Who am I…?" the voice repeated. "I'm…nobody…somebody? Maka…?"_

" _You're definitely_ not _Maka,"_ said Rei, empathically.

" _You're not Maka,"_ the voice said. " _Not Soul. I was trying to talk to Maka…to tell her…"_

" _Danger," said Rei. "Yes, okay. I'll take a message. What_ kind _of danger?"_

" _Danger…"_ the voice repeated. " _Danger…death…danger…"_

_The voice whirled around him as if confused, seeming to come from different directions all at once, edging closer, growing farther away. "How long has it been…? Maka had a child…How many years…? Been too long…danger."_

" _Look," Rei said, whirling around as the voice whooshed right past his ear, bringing with it a torrent of cold air. He tried to turn to face the voice, but keeping track of it was making him dizzy. "I'm trying to help you. You need to focus. What do you want Maka to know?"_

" _My blood…"_

_The voice paused its motion, hovering in space as if it had discovered a crucial fact._

" _Yes, that's right…"_

_There was another rush of air, another puff of cold wind. When the voice spoke again, it was behind Rei, speaking right into his ear. Rei froze as he felt a wave of power moved through him, a soul wavelength that turned his blood to ice._

" _My blood is black, you know."_

_In front of him, a pair of gleaming red eyes opened, staring at him. A white light rearranged itself into a fang-toothed grin._

Rei screamed as he woke up, nearly falling out of bed.

 


	47. Lunacy Pt. 1, All or Nothing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random fun fact of the day: Bright Star isn't mute. He's just strange. To Ayame's extreme displeasure.
> 
> IMPORTANT NOTE ABOUT CRONA: Since you all got my hint from the last chapter…The anime and manga never give a definite answer about Crona's gender. I'd like to preserve that, however, since English doesn't have an actual gender neutral pronoun, I'm going to continue with the manga's decision to use masculine pronouns for Crona (he/his/him). This in no way means that I've decided Crona is male. It's just easier as a writer to settle on one pronoun than to use a traditionally plural pronoun like they/them. Believe me, I tried. So I'm going to use 'he', but Crona is still essentially androgynous/genderless. Just a heads up.

**CHAPTER FORTY-SIX**

**Lunacy Pt. 1, All or Nothing**

* * *

The Morrigan led her down a dark corridor, holding on to her tightly by the arm. Annie struggled to keep up, eyes wide as she looked around her. There were shapes in the darkness, terrible, terrifying shapes, creatures embedded deep in the shadows and stone around her. She let out a cry, struggling to wrench her arm out of the Morrigan's grasp. The Morrigan held fast, her grip like iron.

"No, please" Annie said. "Please. I don't want to be here. Please."

"It's only for a little while, sweetheart," the Morrigan crooned, her lip curling up in a smile as she led Annie down the shadowed corridor. "Only for a little while. To keep you safe, you understand."

"No!" Annie said. "No, I don't understand! Where's Cori? I need Cori!" She could feel her breathing quicken, her heart pounding with panic. Cold pricked its way across her skin, a ringing sensation building up somewhere inside of her head. Without Cori, the darkness would come. Without Cori, the nightmares would wake up again.

The Morrigan's eyes narrowed in irritation, and she swung Annie around in front of her, gripping onto her arms tightly with both hands. The crow witch's nails pressed into her skin and Annie whimpered in pain, tears filling her eyes. She kept her gaze firmly on the ground.

"Look at me," the Morrigan said, shaking her slightly. "Look at me."

Annie did, raising her head slowly to meet her eyes. She let out a hiccupping sob. There was no pity in the Morrigan's eyes as she looked down at her, only impatience and thinly-veiled anger.

"You don't mean anything, girl," the Morrigan said. "Do you understand that? You've served your purpose. At this point, you're just a necessary redundancy. So if you want to stay alive—," here she smiled sweetly, trailing a finger along Annie's cheek, "—you'll do as I say. Do you understand me?"

"But I need Cori…" Annie whispered, desperation making her brave. "Without her, I'll—I'll—"

"I don't care," the Morrigan said, pushing Annie backwards softly. Annie stumbled back, realizing too late that the Morrigan had pushed her over a threshold into a smaller room—into a _cell_. Black bars quickly fell into place over the entryway, separating the Morrigan from her. Annie ran up to them, grasping them tightly in her hands, but it didn't matter how she pulled at them. They refused to move.

"Be a good girl and be quiet for me," the Morrigan said. "I have things I need to do."

"Please," Annie heard herself sob, her voice echoing brokenly in the confines of her cell. "Please—."

But the Morrigan was already turning away, her back towards Annie as she faced another cell in the darkness. Annie heard her speaking to something inside, her voice echoing in the underground corridor.

"Hello, old friend…" the Morrigan's voice whispered. "I was wondering if you would be willing to help me again…"

Chains rattled from somewhere in the darkness. Annie felt a chill as she heard the sound of rattling teeth, ghastly moans. Creatures of terror surrounded her, but she wasn't scared of them. The fear she felt was for something deeper, something within herself. Her fingers went slack around the bars of her cell as her knees buckled. Writhing shadows rose up from the darkness in her mind, coiling around her, dragging her down until the Morrigan's voice seemed to fade away, until she lost sight of the world.

Inside of Annie's mind, there was a room, and inside that room there was a chest. It was an old toy chest, one that was always locked, one that she refused to open. She turned around to face it slowly, her eyes wide, her heart pounding in her throat.

The lid of the chest had cracked open, and something was stirring inside. As Annie watched, unable to tear her eyes away, a hand appeared in the crack, a doll's hand, porcelain fingers wrapping around the chest's rim.

Green eyes appeared in the darkness, bright eyes that were a mockery of her own. As Annie watched, the creature inside started to rise, a rictus grin on her pale, pale doll-like face, black blood streaming around her.

* * *

Rei was working his way through sit-ups on the living room floor in the gray light of very early morning when Ayame came downstairs, a towel slung over her shoulder. She walked into the kitchen and came back out with a bottle of water from the fridge, then paused to watch him, leaning against the open doorframe. He struggled through another one, dressed in shorts and a sweat-soaked sleeveless black shirt.

"Not bad, Rei," she said, grinning as she uncapped her bottle of water. "Keep that up and you'll almost be hot."

Rei grunted in response, abdominal muscles straining as he struggled to raise himself one more time. His body ached and he felt out of breath, but the exercise helped keep his mind off of his fear, helped to stop him from thinking about the dream that had woken him up in the first place. The nightmare.

"Shut up," he said, when he could muster enough breath to speak. "This is all your fault. I had a nice, lazy, effortless life before you came along and ruined it."

"You mean before I whipped you into shape?" Ayame asked, smiling. "Oh, boo-hoo. I feel so bad."

"I mean it," Rei said, gritting his teeth. "I mean, what time is it? The sun's not even up. Why am I awake— _doing sit-ups—_ before the sun rises? I used to sleep till noon."

"Cry me a river, sunshine," Ayame said. "And also do ten more."

Rei muttered a curse under his breath as she walked away, heading into the kitchen. He also did ten more.

When he finished, he flopped back against the carpet, arms spread on either side of him as he gasped for breath. Ayame appeared at his side a moment later, holding a bottle of water and a granola bar.

"I don't think I can eat," Rei said, as she set both down on the carpet beside him.

"You have to," Ayame said, sitting down on the ground next to him. She leaned her back against the couch behind her, taking a sip of her own water. "It's going to be a long day."

Rei turned his head towards her as she tore open the foil wrapper of her own granola bar, taking a large bite before washing it down with another gulp of water. "Aren't you scared at all?" he asked.

"Little bit," Ayame admitted, meeting his eyes. The smile faded from her face, her expression growing serious. "But whatever happens, we'll get through it together. Or not at all."

Rei hesitated, watching her for a few long moments. Outside, the predawn light grew brighter, shadows vanishing in the room around them as the sun chased the darkness away. He wondered, briefly, if this was going to be the last morning he saw. Shinigami's words came back to him from the airship, a phrase that he hadn't heard the man utter before.

_"_ _Set your affairs in order…"_

"If something _did_ happen…" he began.

"Nothing's going to happen," said Ayame.

"But if something _did_ ," Rei said. "you'd probably be fine. As long as you stayed in weapon form."

He searched her eyes as she turned back to look at him, the same deep violet that he always found himself getting lost in. She was watching him, a soft frown on her face, disbelief and fear and sadness and even a little bit of anger coming to life in those eyes.

It was always the meisters who got injured. It was—when things went wrong—usually the meisters who died. Meisters were hardier than most normal people, but it was still significantly easier to injure flesh and bone than it was to hurt steel and shadow, and both halves of the weapon-meister partnership knew it. That was why it was the meister's job to train, to master the use of their weapon, to make their weapon the strongest that they could be, and why it was the weapon's job to protect their meister. Always.

But if something did go wrong, if the meister _did_ die, the weapon might survive. If their opponent wasn't feeling particularly vindictive. If the weapon stayed in weapon form. If the weapon didn't insist on fighting on their own. If the weapon wasn't Ayame Star.

Ayame's eyes narrowed as the full understanding of what he had said washed over her, and she looked away.

"We'll get through it together," she repeated. "Or not at all."

"Ayame…" he began.

_"_ _Or not at all,"_ Ayame repeated, in a way that told him, firmly, that the subject was closed. She stretched out her leg, nudging him in the side with her foot. "Now eat. We should hurry, if we're going to make that airship."

Rei stared up at the ceiling and sighed, considering her words. Then he relented, turning to look back at her. "Help me up," he said, holding out an arm.

Ayame took it, their hands clasping tightly together as she drew him up into a seat.

Later, as he dressed, putting on his old school uniform for what he told himself wasn't the last time—white shirt and tie and dark-colored jacket, uniform pants in one of the DWMA's approved styles—later, as he tugged on his gloves, as he pinned the yellow star she had given him to his jacket collar with fingers that seemed to have gone numb, he thought over her words, thought over the weight that she had put in them, the responsibility that this partnership had given both of them.

Together, or not at all.

He supposed that made sense, even if nothing else did.

* * *

The door to her bedroom swung open, Angela poking her head in from the corridor outside. She paused in the doorway when she saw her partner, leaning against the frame.

"Okay," she said. "You are clearly busy pondering the mysteries of the universe."

Shelley blinked, looking around as she noticed the position she had gotten herself in. She had pulled her desk chair around so that she was sitting on it backwards, her legs curled up in front of her and her knees pressed against the chair's backrest. Her long white hair was still messy from sleep, pulled up into a disheveled bun, and she was wearing an open white bathrobe over her sleep shirt, her glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose.

"Ugh," she said, sliding her legs out over the side of the chair. She buried her fingers in her hair, trying to straighten it out. "I'm turning into my father."

"Could be worse," Angela said, plopping down onto the foot of her partner's bed. "I mean, he did end up with someone like your mom."

"Accidentally," Shelley noted. "And through very little effort of his own. You're sure we can't get a cat?"

"Pascal wouldn't approve," said Angela, placing her hand on a lump of empty air beside her which melted away to reveal her chameleon familiar. "Did you come up with anything good while you were lost in space?"

"Just the same crap again," said Shelley, tugging her glasses off to run a hand over her face. She let out a long breath, looking over at her meister when she finished. "Was your morning more productive, at least?"

"So-so," said Angela, shrugging. "I managed to get a meeting with Maba-sama. The Witch Council might rethink their non-intervention stance with the Morrigan. The Kishin scares them significantly more than we do."

"As it should," Shelley pointed out.

"No arguments there," said Angela. "Kim's heading back soon to try and seal the deal. She finished healing the last of the wounded from yesterday, so we should have a full team up on the moon when the airship leaves. With luck, she'll bring reinforcements from the Council later."

"Which will hopefully make a difference," Shelley said, frowning as she looked back at the floor. She wondered what it said about her that the world as they knew it could be on the verge of ending, that the monster that her parents had fought against and failed to defeat before she was even born could be waking up again, and her thoughts still invariably turned towards Micah, towards whether she could face him, whether she had the strength to do what needed to be done.

Angela seemed to understand this, because the next thing she knew, her partner was leaning forward, a comforting hand on her arm. Shelley looked up, meeting Angela's eyes.

"We'll finish this, Shell," she said. "Today. I promise. We'll do it together."

And despite the fact that Angela had no way of knowing that for sure, had no way of promising that, Shelley believed her.

"Yeah," she said. "I know we will."

* * *

Cori knew as soon as she came downstairs that something was wrong.

No, that was the wrong way to put it. Of course something was wrong. Something had been wrong since yesterday, since her parents and Rei and everyone she knew had come to the castle to rescue the twins and had managed to save only her. But on some level, despite knowing that her parents and brother would be leaving, would be going to save her sister today, she had expected it to be just like any other battle. There had been battles before, moments where Cori and Annie had been left with Rei or with their grandfather while their parents went off to fight evil.

That was expected, and Cori knew how to deal with those moments. Her mom was always serious about them, her dad always tried to be flippant and act like those battles were nothing special, but she always knew that he was serious too. She expected to come downstairs to her mom making breakfast and warning her to behave, to her dad yawning and acting bored with the whole thing and making her mom glare at him while she tried to pretend she wasn't laughing.

She didn't get that. What she got was cereal on the table, and her parents talking to each other in low worried voices, barely acknowledging the fact that she was here at all. What she got was the doorbell ringing, and her grandfather walking into the room, a forced smile on his face that died as soon as he sensed the mood. What she got was Spirit Albarn taking one look around the kitchen, seeing the solemn looks on all of their faces, and announcing that he would wait in the living room, turning the TV on so that he wouldn't accidentally overhear anything they had to say.

What she got was her mom sitting down on one side of her and her dad sitting down on the other, her mom clearing her throat and grasping Cori's hand while her dad ran a hand through his hair and looked like he didn't know what to say.

It looked suspiciously like they were trying to tell her that someone had died. And that scared her, because she knew for a fact that no one on their side was dead yet.

"Cori…" her mom said at last, speaking as though the words pained her. "You know that we're going to try very hard to come back today, don't you?"

Ah. So that was what this was about.

Cori looked from one parent to another in disbelief, what little cereal she had managed to eat turning sour in her stomach.

"What are you saying?" she asked. "You're coming back, aren't you? You're coming back tonight with Rei and Annie."

"We'll do our best, squirt," said Soul, ruffling her hair affectionately. "But you know…stuff happens."

She tried not to lean into his hand, tried to stop from memorizing the look in his eye, the smell of him, the way her mother's hand tightened around hers, her mother's warmth. Tried to tell herself that she was _not_ saying goodbye, but there was a look in her father's eyes that she hadn't seen before.

Sadness. Regret.

"But you'll come back," she heard herself say, heard herself plead. "You always come back."

Maka took Cori's face in her hands, turning her gently to face her. Something hot and wet stung her eyes, and Cori felt tears start making their way down her cheek.

"Cori…" her mother said. "We love you very much. And we're not going to lie to you. This isn't going to be an easy fight. It's possible that not everyone who goes up to the moon today is going to come back."

"But we're still going to go," Soul said. "We're not going to leave your sister up there, and we have to try and stop this from happening. If the Morrigan gets her way, it's going to be very bad for everyone. And if she doesn't…then things are going to be worse."

"Because the Kishin will wake up…" Cori said, sniffling. When her parents blinked at her in surprise, she flushed, lowering her eyes to her lap. "I wasn't sleeping the whole time you were talking yesterday."

"We wish we didn't have to do this," said Maka, touching her face. "But we have to. So you need to be brave, okay? Be brave, and listen to your grandfather. And no matter what happens, know that we love you. You'll do that for us, okay?"

She looked Cori in the eye, expression solemn, and Cori felt her throat close up. She nodded.

"Okay…" she repeated.

Maka leaned in to hug her, wrapping her arms tightly around Cori's head and holding her to her chest. Cori hugged her back tightly, tears staining the front of her mother's shirt, and no matter how many times she tried to tell herself that this wasn't goodbye, she found herself memorizing every moment anyway, found herself holding on to the feeling of Maka's arms around her, her warmth and the steady beat of her heart, the brush of her lips against Cori's forehead as she pulled away. Her dad's arms around her, a much shorter hug than her mom's, because she knew that getting too touchy-feely wasn't really his style. His hand on her head as he ruffled her hair, the crooked grin on his face that didn't reach his eyes when he pulled away.

"You'll be okay," he said. "Right, kid?"

"Yeah, Dad…" she said, forcing herself to return the same crooked smile even though it felt like her heart was breaking. "I'll be okay."

He held out his fist. She tapped it with her own, weakly, and he drew away from her, getting to his feet. He and her mother exchanged a glance over Cori's head, making their way towards the door. Cori slid off of her chair, following. Spirit was standing in the living room when they approached, his own expression solemn. A look she didn't recognize passed between him and her mom, and his expression grew pained.

"Don't worry," Spirit said, his voice soft in a way that told Cori she hadn't been intended to hear this. "I'll take care of her. I promise I will."

They hugged. It was a brief, awkward hug, and one that told Cori that things really were that bad, that nothing about this was normal, because she didn't think she had ever seen her mom and grandfather hug each other before. And then it was over too soon, and her parents were walking out the door. Her grandfather's hand was on her shoulder, and Cori realized as she took a step forward that it was there to stop her from going after them as much as it was there to comfort her. She strained on her tiptoes, pushing as close to the door as she could, her eyes on her parents as they walked away.

She watched them until they were gone and stayed there watching for several moments longer, her grandfather's hand on her shoulder, her world falling apart.

* * *

Cori stayed downstairs for about fifteen minutes before barricading herself in Rei's room. Her grandfather had called out to her with some concern as she made her way back up the steps, inviting her to stay downstairs and watch TV with him, but she had refused. There was nowhere in the house that didn't remind her of her parents or Rei or Annie, that didn't make her feel scared, or sad, or so worried and angry that she felt like she was going crazy.

She couldn't sit in the kitchen, where their coffee mugs still sat in the sink, couldn't stay in the living room with her grandfather, where she and Annie would watch cartoons together, or where the four of them and Rei used to curl up on the couch and lie across armchairs for movie nights, back when Rei still lived here and they were all together. And she especially couldn't be in the music room, couldn't sit on the chair of her father's upright piano and think of the nights when he thought they were asleep, when he would come down here and music would fill the room. She couldn't think of what it felt like to sit on his lap, giggling, and press keys when he told her to. If she stopped to think about it too much, she would cry, and Cori already told herself she wasn't going to cry.

She wasn't going to cry, because crying would mean that she accepted they were gone, and they _weren't_ gone. They were definitely coming back. All of them. They always came back.

So instead of crying, she shut herself in Rei's room, which was the only room of the house left available to her. She paced the center of the room angrily, hands clasped behind her back, and told herself again and again that things would be fine, that they were definitely coming back, that she wasn't going to be the only one left behind.

That at the end of the day, she would still have a family, and it wouldn't be her alone.

Those thoughts swirled up inside her, an endless confusion of noise somewhere in the back of her mind, so that when she heard a tap on the window she jumped, not knowing at first whether the sound had been real or just part of the background noise. The tap came again, firmer this time, and Cori finally lifted her head, looking out at Rei's window.

A black-haired boy was leaning over the frame, a frown of confusion on his face. He had one hand raised in a tentative wave.

Bright Star.

Cori's eyes widened, and she quickly ran over to the window, unlocking it and sliding it open.

"Bright Star!" she said, sticking her head out. "What are you _doing_ here?"

The boy had his feet braced against the exterior wall of the house beside her window, one hand clinging to a small knife that he had wedged into the stone. He frowned at her, tilting his head skyward as if trying to work out how to answer her question, then balled up his free hand into a fist and mimed punching at the air.

"Training?" Cori asked. "But aren't you—didn't your parents _leave_ you with someone?"

Bright Star grinned at that and held up the first two fingers of his right hand, pointing them at the ground. He mimed walking away, mischief shining in his green eyes.

"You _escaped_?!" Cori asked, incredulous. " _Why_?"

Bright Star shrugged.

"You just _felt like it_?" Cori repeated. "That's not an excuse, Bright Star!" Bright Star's response was to puff out his cheeks, giving Cori a petulant frown. Cori looked around, pausing to listen, but the TV was still on downstairs and her grandfather hadn't come up to check on her. She looked back at Bright Star. "Anyway, you can't be here. My grandfather's supposed to be watching me, and if he catches you—."

He interrupted her by shaking his head. Cori blinked.

"He won't?" she asked. "He won't catch you?"

Bright Star nodded. Cori was unconvinced.

"What makes you so sure?"

In response, Bright Star tugged his scarf up over his nose and mouth, giving Cori a meaningful look.

"Because you're a ninja?" Cori asked. "Bright Star, you're _six_."

He opened his free hand, holding up five fingers insistently, followed by two more. Cori snorted.

"Yes, because seven is so much better," she said. She let out a sigh, stepping back from the window. "Anyway, look, thanks for coming over, but I'm kind of having a bad day. Maybe we can play tomorrow? You should get back before people start worrying about you—."

He held up a hand, cutting her off. Cori paused, looking over at him. Bright Star was leaning into the room, a concerned frown on his face. He pointed at her, then pointed at himself. When Cori stared at him blankly, trying to figure out what he was saying, he repeated the gesture.

"Can you help me?" Cori asked. "Is that what you're asking?"

Bright Star nodded.

Cori shook her head, clasping her hands behind her. "I don't think you can," she said. "Not unless you know how to get to the moon."

Bright Star frowned as if considering it. He leaned back and tilted his face upwards, looking up at the sky. His free hand came up, rubbing at his chin.

Then he looked back at Cori, a grin on his face. He nodded.

* * *

The moon was still several hours of flight time away, so for the second time in two days, Rei found himself standing on the upper deck of the DWMA's airship, leaning against the railing. It was a surprisingly pleasant day. The sun was warm, the sky impossibly blue above them, the breeze cool against his skin. It was hard to believe that this was a day that could determine the fate of the world.

He settled back against the rail, watching Ayame. She was with her parents on the other side of the deck, trying to get her hair tie back from her father, who had grabbed it from her and was now teasing her with it by holding it just out of reach while she seethed. If he watched the two of them, he could almost make himself believe that this was just another trip, an easy mission, but the illusion dissipated as soon as he looked over at anyone else.

He wished he had their confidence, wished he wasn't scared stiff, that his stomach wasn't currently trying to tie itself in a knot at the thought of what would be waiting for them up there. It would have been a lot more pleasant to not be afraid.

But there probably wasn't anyone else in the world like Black Star. He'd have to settle for just being Rei.

"Almost seems as if it's too nice of a day for this, doesn't it?" a voice asked, a slight figure settling against the railing next to him. Rei looked over at his mother, straightening up.

"They're not helping," he said, inclining his head towards Black Star and Ayame.

Maka gave him a knowing smile. "Would you believe Black Star's actually taking this seriously?" she asked. "It's not obvious, but it's true."

"I believe it," Rei said, "So's Ayame."

He had a feeling Ayame was just as scared as he was, but there was really no need to point that out.

"I've been thinking…" Maka began.

"About what?" Rei asked, looking over at her.

"About you and Ayame," said Maka.

Rei paused, unsure what to say next. He hadn't told anyone about the change in his and Ayame's relationship. It was still so new and so strange, and there were so many other things going on. He wondered if that was what his mother was talking about, if she had found out somehow and was about to scold him for keeping it a secret. But her next words put him at ease.

"I've been thinking about your resonance."

"Our resonance?" Rei asked, looking back at his partner. She had puffed out her cheeks in a petulant scowl, as Black Star's laughter filled the air. He glanced at his mother. "What about it?"

"It's something I noticed yesterday," Maka said. "When the two of you were fighting Mordred." She paused, and Rei knew that she was looking for the words, putting on her 'Maka-sensei' persona. "You know that weapons amplify their meisters' wavelength, right?" At Rei's nod, she went on. "Ayame seems particularly good at it, almost to the point where I'd call it a special ability. It's like her soul takes in her partner's wavelength and makes it stronger, then takes that strengthened wavelength back in and makes it stronger again. Your wavelength doubled and tripled yesterday while you were resonating with her."

Rei looked over at his partner, his mind going back to the feeling of their resonance. His hand went up before he could think about it, pressing over the spot on his chest where his soul rested. He remembered the warmth inside of him when he was resonating with Ayame, remembered her wavelength like fire, burning bright inside the hollow smokiness of his own soul.

"In fact," his mom said, still speaking, "I'd guess that that ability is why Ayame had such a hard time finding a partner in the first place. It would be overwhelming for most souls to have their wavelength suddenly broadcasted back at them. Most souls, especially inexperienced ones, are too rigid to take it. You'd need an especially flexible soul," She glanced sidelong at Rei whose hand pressed harder into his chest, "one that would have the room to expand and grow."

He thought back to the sight of his own soul, in the dream with the stag, thought back to Ayame's soul burning like a fire. She'd been able to catch his wavelength, faint as it was, had been able to draw his soul out of hiding with her own. And he'd been able to hold onto the fire without getting burned. He thought back to the day they had met again, that first day in the DWMA, when he helped her up and she refused to admit that she was crying.

_"_ _When it feels right,"_ Maka had said once, when he was worried about not finding a partner, _"you'll know."_

He shook his head, smiling, lowered his hand back to his side.

"It doesn't surprise me," he said. "Ayame's ability. She's always felt lonely being as strong as she is. She's always trying to bring people up to her level."

"She makes you want to work harder," Maka said, giving him a knowing smile.

Rei flushed, wondering if he was being that obvious. But he couldn't deny it. "Yes," he said. "Yes, she does."

"That's good," Maka said. "Hold on to that. You're going to need it today."

Her eyes moved past him, scanning the sky ahead of them. Rei saw the smile slip away from her face, saw her shoulders tense, her mouth pressing in a tight line, and knew that she was thinking about the battle.

"This is going to be bad, isn't it?" he asked, watching her.

"It could be," said Maka, letting out a soft sigh. She looked back at him. "Rei, how much do you know about what happened on the moon, that first time?"

"The gist of it," said Rei, shrugging. "The Kishin Asura made his last stand up there. You all went up to fight him when you were younger. You didn't manage to defeat him, but he was sealed away thanks to the power of Brew. Now I'm guessing the Morrigan wants to pick up where Medusa and Arachne left off and try and take the Kishin's power for herself."

"Close enough," said Maka, nodding. "Thanks to Medusa, Asura…has the black blood, the same black blood your sister has. The black blood is the key to taking Asura's power. As far as we can determine, someone with the black blood can absorb another black-blooded person into themselves, as long as their will is stronger than the other's."

"And the black blood's contagious," said Rei. "That's how Dad got it. When he got that scar on his chest, some of it got into the wound. That's why the Morrigan kidnapped Annie, so that she can use the black blood to give herself the ability to absorb the Kishin."

Maka nodded. "That's what we've been able to figure out so far," she said, her expression growing grim again. Rei watched her for a few long moments, wondering what she was thinking of, what she was remembering. His dream came back to him, the voice's warning. Warn Maka about danger and death.

He didn't even know where to begin.

"Mom…" he said, taking a stab at it. "What happens if the Morrigan succeeds?"

"If she absorbs the Kishin, you mean?" Maka asked, looking back at Rei. "It's probably going to be very bad. Not many people know this, but Asura…" She hesitated, glancing towards the bridge. Through the bridge's glass windows, Rei caught sight of Shinigami, looking solemnly out into the distance with his weapons beside him. "The previous Shinigami," Maka said, trying again, "had two sons. Two…fragments of himself."

Rei's eyes widened and he looked back at his mother. "Are you trying to tell me that Asura is Shinigami-sama's brother?" he asked.

"That's exactly what I'm telling you," said Maka, solemn. "Order and Fear…two sides of Death. The previous Shinigami created Asura to separate Fear from himself, but Asura turned against him. If the Morrigan manages to overpower Asura and absorb him, she'll have all of the Madness of Fear inside of herself. She'll basically _be_ a shinigami."

"And if she fails…"

"If she fails, Asura will absorb _her_ ," Maka said. "And then we'll have Asura."

Rei shuddered. Asura, the Kishin, awake and more powerful for having absorbed the Morrigan's soul. He wasn't sure which outcome was worse.

Maka watched the understanding dawn on her face and nodded, looking back up at the sky. "You get it now," Maka said. "No matter who wins between the Morrigan and the Kishin, the outcome isn't good. Our best bet is to stop her from making contact with Asura at all, and hoping we can get away before he wakes."

"And if we can't?" Rei asked.

"If we can't," Maka said, "We'll fight as hard as we can. And we'll hope that Kid is strong enough now to take that Fragment of Fear back, because that's what he's going to try to do."

Her eyes drifted towards Shinigami again, concern in her expression. Concern for her friend. The details of his dream came back to him again, the voice that had claimed to be Maka's friend.

There was another character in this story, one that he had heard little about in the history books. One that no one seemed to mention except for his mother and his father and the people who knew them. He didn't know the details, but he had always had the feeling that it was a long and complicated story.

He drew in a deep breath.

"Annie's with the Morrigan because she has the black blood," Rei said. "The same black blood that Asura has. Annie inherited that blood from Dad, but Dad caught it from someone else, didn't he? He caught it from the person who wounded him."

Maka turned to look back at him slowly, lowering her hands to her side.

"Yes?"

Rei met her stare head-on, the voice from his dream still ringing in his ears.

"Can we talk about Crona?" he asked.

* * *

The only thing Morgan knew when she came to was that she was somehow still alive, and after lying there for a few moments, she wasn't even entirely sure of that. Her entire body ached, a tingling pain that went past her skin and settled somewhere deep inside her bones, and her head throbbed. There was a ringing in her ears, that wouldn't ease up, and a sharp ball of static in the pit of her belly where the comforting blaze of her magic should have been. The air was laced with the scent of char.

Water lapped at her sides, bearing her aloft. She was floating on her back somewhere, she realized, her sodden dress threatening to drag her down. With some difficulty, she opened her eyes, half-expecting to find that she was lying in a pool of her own blood.

She wasn't.

The ceiling of a high cavern came into focus above her, gray stone forming a cathedral-like expanse that surrounded her. A shaft of sunlight filtered in from a gap in the stone, reflecting against water that was a pure, crystalline blue. Somewhere in the distance, she heard a rushing sound, like many small wings beating at once. She thought she heard voices, whispers. Feminine voices, like the voices of fairies.

It was too much to take in at once. Her brow furrowed in confusion, her mouth falling open as she tried to comprehend how the fireball she had found herself in had become this.

_Am I dead…?,_ she thought.

The words echoed around her, spoken by a hoarse voice that sounded suspiciously like her own, and Morgan realized that she had said them out loud.

"Fool!" barked a sudden voice, a white staff cracking her sharply over the head and shoving her face into the water.

Morgan came up coughing and spluttering, her hands pressing against her head where her attacker had struck her. She spun around, scowling in indignation, and saw what looked like a strange, deformed little man standing on an island of stone in the center of the lake. He was dressed purely in white, with a hooked white nose and beady white eyes, with hardly a spot of color on him at all.

"What did you do that for?!" she demanded.

"Fool!" the man repeated again, swinging his staff at her. Morgan quickly raised her arms up over her head in defense as he stepped towards her, swinging the staff over and over again. "Do not ask such stupid questions. Don't you know who I am?"

"Demonstrably _not,_ or I wouldn't be asking you!" said Morgan, stepping back into deeper water with her arms up to guard against the onslaught. She looked back over her shoulder, turning her face away from the blows, and realized that the voices she had heard _had_ been fairies, fairies all clustered against the wall of the cave, watching the scene with a strange expression on their faces.

An expression that was somehow a mix between exasperation and utter disgust. She chanced a glance back at the creature that was attacking her—

—and got smacked in the face for her trouble. Morgan stumbled backwards, bowing her head, her hands going up over her nose. She squeezed her eyes shut, taking in a deep breath. It _stung_. Nothing like the deep ache that had settled into her body, but it certainly didn't help.

She looked up, eyes narrowed.

"Why are you _hitting_ me?!"

The little man's response was to take a swipe at her knees. Morgan leaped back, avoiding the blow, and nearly stumbled, her soaked skirt weighing her down in the water. The man stepped forward sternly, holding his staff in both hands as he walked towards her.

"You're not worth the blood you bear," the little man said. "One scrawny, foolish girl, not even a direct descendant. What are you even doing here? You don't know who I am? My legend begins in the twelfth century—."

The twelfth century…

Morgan blinked up at him, relaxing her guard. Slowly, she moved her hands away from her face.

"Excalibur…?" she asked, tentative.

The staff sailed through the air again, cracking her soundly over the top of the head. Morgan let out a yelp of pain, followed by a snarl of anger as she reached out, catching the staff in the air and holding on with one hand. "Alright, that is _enough_ —!" she began.

Excalibur shifted his weight, knocking her off her feet before she knew what was happening. She fell into the water with a splash, landing on her rear. In front of her, the Holy Sword's avatar spun around, pointing his staff at her decisively.

"Let me ask you again," Excalibur said, the staff leveled at her. His whole demeanor seemed to have changed in that instant. He drew himself up to his full height, his voice booming, echoing in the cavern as he fixed her with a piercing glare. "What are you doing here, blood of Arthur?"


	48. Lunacy Pt. 2, Anima Sana

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I came to a conclusion about a certain hinted at pairing in this chapter, and I hope you guys aren't too mad at me about it. I try to make sure that my characters stay in character, and that also means making sure that all their relationships feel natural. If they don't, then that relationship clearly needs some looking at, and after thinking about it some, I decided to take this particular pairing down that path. Note that this doesn't preclude any possible developments in the future, it's just where they are now. ^^ Hope you aren't too disappointed, but I think this works better. (Don't worry, it's not Reiame or any of the original cast :P)
> 
> That said, I think some of you are really going to enjoy this chapter, for reasons that will become clear at the end.
> 
> There's a lot of stuff to get through here and I'm still determined to end on Chapter 50, which means we're probably going to get long chapters until this is done. Enjoy!

**CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN**

**Lunacy Pt. 2, Anima Sana**

* * *

The airship swayed beneath her, a ripple of motion in the floorboards of the deck that was disturbingly familiar. Cassie, placing a hand on the wall for support and looking out through the bridge's great windows, felt a sudden sense of déjà vu. It was hard to believe that she was on this airship only yesterday, heading to battle, and now she was on this airship again. Heading to battle.

She exhaled, feeling a wave of tension move through her, washing over her from her head to her toes and exiting out of her trembling fingers. One day, twenty-four hours, the same situation. Nothing had changed. And yet it felt like everything had.

She eyed Shinigami out of the corner of her eye. He stood on the bridge next to the airship's controls, an air of power and command arrayed around him like the frayed black cloak that he had slipped onto his shoulders. If he was thinking at all of the conversation they had had, he didn't show it. He had been tense since stepping off of the airship last night. Quiet, commanding, purposeful. She knew that all of his attention was currently focused on the battle ahead, the clash with the Morrigan, and the possibility of another battle against the Kishin.

Against Asura.

His brother.

Cassie drew in a deep breath, staring down at her hands as she remembered the words she had said last night, the words that had convinced Shinigami that she needed to be on this airship. She'd meant them at the time, even though they terrified her. All of her life, people had been trying to use her, to force her to use her abilities to bend the world to their will. They didn't see her as a person, with her own thoughts and feelings and dreams and ambitions. They saw her as a thing. The Grimoire, the Book, a powerful artifact, a relic of power. If they acknowledged that she had a will of her own at all, they acknowledged only that her will was just the book's power given form. She was its Index, its keeper, nothing more than a glorified computer program. She was the Grimoire of Reality first, Cassandra Crane second.

At Shinigami's orders, Mifune had saved her from that life, but even then she had been afraid. Because she knew that she was unexpected. Shinigami had said it himself when they spoke. He hadn't expected her to be a Demon Weapon, a person, a _child_. Didn't expect that what people knew of as the Grimoire of Reality was _also_ a weapon form, handed down from generation to generation, and she was just its newest, most unlucky vessel. And whether he'd wanted the Grimoire to use for himself or had wanted to keep it locked away so that nobody could use it didn't matter. The point of the matter was, he hadn't expected her to be _human._ And because she was, because she was both human and inexperienced and very scared, she was a complication to him. She'd known that from the beginning.

When Mifune saved her, she'd half-expected to be locked up again, to be moved from one cell to another. She had been twelve years old, on the edge of turning thirteen, and that had been all she expected from her life. She didn't expect to be taken to the dispensary within twenty minutes of her arrival at the DWMA, didn't expect to be poked and prodded and examined by a scary-looking doctor until a tiny blond woman with an eye patch hauled him off of her and pushed him out into the hallway, then came to sit in front of her, took her hands in her own, and asked her if she was alright.

Just that. Just that one quiet question.

Are you alright?

She didn't expect to break down into tears. To just burst out crying right there, sitting on the edge of a warm bed in the dispensary, while Marie Mjolnir looked at her with concern and Mifune, still leaning against the door, still covered in blood, said quietly that her name was Cassandra. Didn't expect to be given a bed to sleep in and food to eat, to be allowed to roam the grounds and the city at will. Didn't expect to be given a small allowance so that she could buy clothes of her own to wear, so that she didn't have to wear Angela and Shelley's old clothes and whatever clothes Mifune and Marie could scrounge up from somewhere. And when Marie had taken her shopping and she saw the pink headphones that had become her signature, she certainly hadn't expected Marie to tell her that it would be okay if she wanted to buy them.

Marie had taken her to get a haircut, understanding, even if Cassie hadn't at the time, that she needed to look different, to _be_ different. Marie had even helped her dye her hair.

When they gave her the enrollment packet for the DWMA and asked her to fill it out, Cassie's first question, asked in utter seriousness, was if joining the DWMA was an order. She hadn't understood the heartbroken look Marie had shot Mifune then. She understood it now. But she remembered sitting there, perplexed and confused and still feeling a little afraid, when Marie handed her the pen and explained to her, very kindly, that while she had to enroll at the DWMA for her own good, she didn't have to enroll in the special class. She could join the N.O.T. class, and if she did, all she would learn at the school was how to control her powers, so that when she graduated, she could live a normal life.

A normal life. Marie had offered her a normal life, right then and there, and Cassie had thought it was some kind of trick. But trick or not, she'd still been tempted to take it. She hadn't done it in the end. She'd signed up for the E.A.T. class. Maybe that was because using her powers was all she knew how to do, but maybe it was also because she wanted to learn how to fight. Because if she fought, then maybe she could continue being different. So Cassie enrolled in the E.A.T. class and met Morgan, and the DWMA gave her an apartment and allowance and everything, and she could choose her own missions and go to class and go anywhere in the city she wanted. And Morgan never tried to make Cassie give her more than she was willing to give, because Morgan had a secret too, and Morgan was afraid too, and Morgan knew how it felt to be pushed around too.

Life was great. Life was fantastic. Cassie was the happiest she had ever been. She had friends, then a boyfriend, then an ex-boyfriend. She had classmates. She went on dates, she went to the arcade, to parties, to the movies. She had an allowance big enough to allow her to buy books on a regular basis, and she used it to the fullest, until her room was so full of books and music and movies that it was hard to move around in it. She fell in love with Morgan, platonically, because it was impossible to share a soul with someone, to pour yourself out so completely and to receive their soul in return, and _not_ love them on some level.

She lived her life and yet through it all, she kept her head down. She buried herself in the rhythms of life, in books, in parties, in music, in shopping. In elaborate fantasy worlds of her own creation, and however many of those other things she could combine together at the same time. She spent all of her days doing her best to ignore reality, because she couldn't shake the looming sense that the shoe was about to fall, that sooner or later Shinigami would call for her and demand that she use her abilities for him and her life would come crashing down.

She hadn't expected to go to him herself. Hadn't expected to volunteer. Hadn't expected to willingly reveal the one secret that she had managed to keep from all of her previous handlers—she used that word because she knew what it was like to have a meister now, a real one, and none of the ones that had used her previously could compare. The secret that could be her undoing.

Even now, she didn't know why she had done it.

Probably because Morgan, when faced with the choice between the life she had built and the lives of those she loved, had chosen to sacrifice herself. Twice. Because she knew that what it had cost Morgan to leave with her uncle that day at Rei's house had been harder than anything else Morgan had ever done, including going to the basement of Fata Morgana to die. And if Morgan had done it for these people, how could she do any less?

After all, Cassie loved them too.

She eyed Shinigami again, her hand resting on the airship's wall. So far, it seemed as though the DWMA's leader had been as good as his word. He wouldn't make her do anything that she wasn't already willing to do. But it mattered, she thought, that she had given him that information, that license to tell her when it was time to use her last, most final secret. It mattered even if he never used it, even if he pretended the whole conversation had never occurred.

It mattered to her. It seemed like a turning point in her life, the first moment that she had chosen for herself, pledged her service instead of having it be demanded of her. And it was a moment from which she could never go back.

She turned away from him, looking through the bridge's windows at the outer deck. Her teammates were waiting there—Rei standing with his mother, Ayame with her parents, Clark and Vayne leaning against the railing near the prow. They weren't far from the moon now, to judge from the mounting tension in the air. Maybe it was time she went and joined them.

She took a deep breath and stepped outside, drawing her coat tighter around herself to guard against the wind. Almost as soon as she did, Clark looked up, meeting her eyes. He nodded at Vayne and broke away from his partner, striding purposefully in her direction.

Cassie shifted in place, uncomfortable. Clark looked like a man on a mission, his face set in a look of grim determination. Kimial Diehl had done her job well—it was practically impossible to tell that he had been in danger of bleeding out all over the airship floor just yesterday. She had a feeling she knew what Clark wanted, and she felt the familiar twinges of uncertainty and guilt in her gut that she always felt when faced with his (frankly obvious) affection for her.

"Cassie," Clark said, coming to a stop in front of her. "Can we talk?"

Cassie sucked in a breath, her fingers nearly making a reflexive grab for her headphones. She stilled the impulse just in time, her hand trailing alongside her coat instead. Clark was her _friend_ , she told herself, making herself look at him. He deserved an answer from her.

"Sure, Clark," she said, forcing herself to smile, to pretend like she didn't know what he had come here to say. "What do you want to talk about?"

He led her over to the railing, his expression growing nervous. He was trying to keep his cool, but Clark wasn't that collected, and his eyes seemed to settle everywhere _except_ for on her. She waited for him to speak, keeping her hands firmly at her sides, and tried not to fiddle too much with the hem of her coat. There were butterflies in her stomach for all the wrong reasons, and when he finally spoke, she did her best not to look away.

"Look," he said. "This is—probably going to be kind of awkward, but this is going to be a tough battle, and—just in case we don't make it out, I wanted to tell you something. I know I haven't been really straightforward with my feelings, but if we don't make it out of here, I just want you to know—."

She felt something sink in her gut and looked up at him, trying to arrange her face in an expression of sympathy. "Clark, I—."

"I don't like you, Cassie," Clark blurted out.

Cassie stared at him.

"Come again?" she asked.

"I don't like you," he repeated. "Not—not like that!" he added quickly, as she arched an eyebrow at him and opened her mouth. "I mean, I like you. A—a lot. You're nice, and funny, and one of my closest friends, but I don't actually—I don't actually _like_ you."

Cassie felt like her world was spinning. "But, you—," she began.

"I know," said Clark, holding up a hand to cut her off. "I know. I've been making an ass of myself since that first Combat Arts class. I even really, really thought I liked you. But I kind of…realized something, I guess. Since—since Ophelia. I realized that after everything that had happened with—with my mom and all that—I just wanted _somebody_ to like me. And the person that I thought I liked wasn't actually _you_. She was this—this fantasy version of you that I had in my head." He flushed as he spoke, looking away from her and raising a nervous hand to the back of his neck. "The real you is a lot cooler than her. I figured you—you deserved more from me than what I gave you, so I wanted to let you know. To—clear the air…in case one of us doesn't come back."

"Aww, Clark," Cassie said, reaching forward and taking his free hand in both her own. "I do like you." Clark looked up in dismay and her eyes widened. "Not like that!" she said quickly. "I meant as a friend! I love all of you—as friends. To be honest, I'm not really sure I _can_ like someone that way, right now. I'm going through a lot of stuff on my own."

"Ethan—."

"—was a _distraction_ ," Cassie finished, releasing his hand. Now it was her turn to feel embarrassed, and she looked away, feeling warmth spread across her cheeks. "A nice distraction, but that's all it was. I didn't want to think about some things. I just wanted to be normal, and he was—there. You know what I'm saying?"

"Yeah," said Clark and then the pained expression on his face eased and he chuckled softly. "I guess we're really not that different," he said, leaning against the railing.

"Yeah," said Cassie, smiling. "I guess we aren't." She held out a hand towards him. "To friendship?"

"To friendship," said Clark, smiling back. He took her hand.

The ship lurched suddenly to the side, the engine letting out a high-pitched, screaming whine as a ray of power tore through the air, sizzling through the space where the ship had been. Cassie screamed as the deck tilted beneath her, the wind whipping at her and pressing her against the railing. Alarms blared and she reached for the railing as she tried to make sense of what was going on, the moon filling up her vision.

The ship banked hard before she could grab onto it, avoiding a second blast. The railing slipped just past her hands as she overshot it, falling over the side of the deck.

"Cassie!" Clark screamed, one of his hands on the railing as he leaned forward and reached for her. She grabbed at him, frantic, but his hand slipped just out of her reach. His eyes narrowed in a snarl and he leaped over the side of the ship, stretching a hand out towards his partner.

" _Vayne!"_

Vayne appeared in his hand in an instant, the curved blade materializing out of the sudden flash of light. The blade's chain formed beneath Clark's fingers as power sparked around him and he tossed it at her, the chain wrapping itself tight around her waist. He tugged at it, snapping her up towards him, and pressed her tight to his side as he whirled around, preparing to toss Vayne at the airship.

He didn't throw Vayne. Instead, Cassie felt him tense around her and she looked up, her eyes widening when she saw what he did. The airship had moved. While he was leaping after her, it had started climbing, avoiding the bombardment of magic that was coming from the dark moon. The chain wouldn't reach.

Before she could even open her mouth to panic, a dark shape leaped from the airship, soaring towards them. The shape unfurled large black wings, and Cassie's heart leaped in relief when she recognized Rei. The wings pressed close against his back as he dove, flaring out like a parachute as he caught up to them and grabbed onto the back of Clark's shirt. Their fall slowed and then stopped abruptly, Rei letting out a grunt of effort as he struggled to hold on.

"Are you _crazy?!"_ he asked Clark, shouting over the roar of the wind and the barrage. "You can't fly!"

Clark didn't answer, breathing hard, his eyes wide as he stared down at the clouds beneath them. Rei looked up at the airship, his face pulling into a scowl. The airship was still climbing, still twisting and turning in the air as it tried to avoid the blasts that were coming from the surface of the black moon. A sole flyer was zipping around the airship, trying to break free of the bombardment, but the blasts were coming so fast now that she couldn't do much more than stay close to the ship. Cassie recognized the flyer as Maka-sensei and looked up at Rei, who was watching her with a grim expression. He raised his free hand, signaling that they were alright, and Cassie watched as she turned around, disappearing back into the tangle around the airship.

She looked back at Rei, who stared at the airship for a few moments longer before looking away.

"Well, we're not getting back that way," he said. "Let's try to find our own way in. Cassie, can you transform? Clark's heavy enough and Vayne's not much better."

"No problem," said Cassie with a nod, transforming into her weapon form. Clark caught the grimoire in mid-air, clutching it tight to his side with his free hand as Rei spread his wings, grabbing onto Clark with both hands and making for a quieter side of the moon.

* * *

Rei collapsed onto the ground after releasing Clark, propping himself up with his arms and taking deep, gasping breaths. He felt a weight lift off of his back as the wings faded, Ayame taking on her human form. She appeared on the ground beside him, tilting her head back and looking up at the sky. He gulped down a few more breaths of air and coughed to clear out the metallic taste in the back of his throat, then sat up and whirled onto Clark.

"Are you out of your mind?" he asked.

"What was I supposed to do?" said Clark, frowning at Rei. "Let her fall?" He gestured at Cassie, who had also taken on her human form, and was sprawled out on the ground a few inches away from Vayne.

"Of course not," said Rei. "But there's a middle ground between letting her fall and _jumping off a moving airship."_

"Even if we hadn't jumped, you wouldn't have been able to get back on the airship," said Vayne, lifting his head and turning towards Rei. "Give it a rest, man. At least we're all together."

Rei scowled at Vayne but relented, falling back into a seat and rubbing some life back into his arms. They felt numb and rubbery, which wasn't a good sign. He glanced at Ayame out of the corner of his eye. She was sitting up now, her arms wrapped around her knees as she caught her breath, but she looked alright. His eyes moved past her, surveying their landing spot for the first time.

He had managed to put them down on the backside of the moon, on a patch of stone littered with craters and ridges. The ground here was as black as if it had been painted, an oily sheen covering every available surface. A shiver crawled up his spine, and he pulled his hand away from the rock next to him, wiping it on his pants. It didn't help. His eyes tracked back towards his companions, turning towards Clark.

"Hey, Clark, you feeling okay?" Rei asked.

Clark looked back at him in confusion. "Um, yeah," he said. "I'm feeling fine. Why?"

"Nothing," said Rei. "Just…keep an eye on yourself. And let me know if that changes. That goes for everyone else here too."

For a second, they all looked at him in confusion. Clark was the first to understand. The color drained from his face as he looked around, taking in the darkness that tainted the moon's surface.

"The black blood?" he asked.

"I think it's dormant right now," Rei said. "At least, that's what Mom was saying. But we don't have anyone with the Anti-Magic Wavelength on this team, so…watch out for each other. If anyone starts showing any signs of madness—."

He paused. What? What could they do if someone started going crazy? They had too many problems right now to start suspecting each other.

"—we'll deal with them," Ayame finished for him, her expression grim. She looked around at all of them, picking up the slack for Rei. "Anyone got a plan?"

"First question," said Vayne. "Where are we?"

"Dark side of the moon, by the looks of it," said Cassie, looking around. She frowned, holding up a hand for silence. "Do you guys hear that?"

Rei listened. From far off, there was a low rumbling sound, a series of staccato pulses that seemed to travel through the ground.

"Fighting," he said. "Probably on the other side, where our main forces are."

"So that's where we've gotta be," said Ayame, getting to her feet. "Alright, let's do this."

Rei nodded, moving to stand up after her. Across from him, the others stood as well, looking around them warily.

They had just started walking when a low wail rose up around them, reverberating across the stones. Rei spun to face the sound, eyes narrowed, as a dark shape moved in the corner of his vision, too fast to track.

He was still trying to follow it when something came at him from out of the darkness, slamming him to the ground.

* * *

It happened in a second. One moment, Rei was standing there, directing them over the rise towards the other side of the moon, the next a low wail had risen up around them and a dark shape had tackled Rei to the ground. Clark had a second to glimpse a wraith-like figure shrouded in shadow, an emaciated female face with grayish skin and wide, dark eyes and an open mouth, before Ayame surged forward with a shout of rage. The shadow jerked away from Rei, too fast to track, its keening wail reverberating off of the rocks around them as it vanished into the distance.

"Ayame!" Rei said with a grunt of pain, already getting to his feet. He held out a hand towards his partner. Clark held his hand out towards Vayne, mirroring him.

"Vayne," he said.

There were twin flashes of light as Ayame and Vayne transformed, Ayame taking on the form of a slender katana, with a hilt wrapped in strips of black fabric. Tendrils of that same black fabric wrapped around Rei's arm as he took hold of the hilt, his eyes narrowing as he held the sword in a defensive position. Clark let the familiar weight of Vayne's pendulum form settle into his hand, his eyes narrowing as he and Rei turned their backs to each other, putting Cassie between them as they searched for the source of the sound.

The wail seemed to leap from location to location, making the hair on the back of Clark's neck stand on end. He looked from left to right, heart pounding, feeling Vayne's readiness in the steel beneath his fingertips.

Faster than lightning, something leaped at Rei.

Clark barely had enough time to turn around as the hag appeared in the air, claws extended towards Rei's face. Rei had managed to turn, eyes wide, had managed to raise his sword to protect himself, but shadows exploded out from under the hag's cloak like a flock of dark birds, slipping through the gaps in Rei's defenses. He let out a cry as he was thrown back, slamming into one of the upright boulders behind them. The whole thing happened so quickly that by the time Clark managed to turn around, all he felt was the wind of Rei's passing. The hag leaped back into the safety of the rocks, and in an instant she was gone.

The unearthly wail continued.

"Rei!" Clark said, turning towards his friend.

"I'm alright," said Rei, gritting his teeth. He wiped at the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes widening suddenly in alarm. "Clark, behind you!"

Clark spun quickly, managing to catch the hag's attack on the flat of Vayne's blade. He leaped backwards just as she attacked again, shadows rushing past him as he landed on the ground beside Rei. The other boy had staggered to his feet, eyes narrowed as he turned his back to Clark, head turning left and right as he tried to keep track of her opponent.

Rei scowled. "She's too fast," he muttered under his breath. "I can't keep track of her."

A thrill of excitement ran through Clark in spite of the situation, the thrill of challenge. His eyes moved to the blade he was holding in front of him, to Vayne's reflection in the blade's flat.

Vayne was grinning.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Clark asked.

" _Oh yeah,"_ said Vayne. " _It's about time."_

"When you two are finished chatting, maybe you can fill me in?" asked Rei dryly from behind them.

Clark's answer was to step forward, grinning. He could feel his soul wavelength rising up around him, light gleaming off of his glasses as he held Vayne's pendulum form out to the side.

"Leave this to us," he said. "We'll take care of it."

"What—?" Rei began, starting to turn around.

Clark didn't give him time to ask the question. Instead, he reached for Vayne's soul. Light glowed around the pendulum blade as his partner's soul wavelength rose up to meet his, their souls swelling to envelop him, to fill the space around them. He raised his hand up to his face to adjust his glasses.

" _Soul Resonance,"_ he intoned.

Light spread outwards from him, a circle of light appearing in the floor beneath him. In that circle, Clark saw the outline of gears, an endless number of clockwork mechanisms turning in sync. Electricity crackled over the circle, pouring out of his soul, out of his Paralyzing Wavelength. As the power spread over the gears, they stuttered and began to slow. Then, just as the hag launched herself at them a fourth time, they stopped entirely.

Clark smiled, closing his eyes and drawing in a breath. He savored it, exhaling slowly. He waited until the breath was done before opening his eyes, looking up.

He was standing alone in the center of a glowing circle, the gears frozen at his feet. A cylindrical wall rose up from the circle's edge, a line of golden light that surrounded him. Outside of that wall, to his left, he saw Rei frozen in place, his eyes wide and mouth open as he started to ask Clark what he was doing. On his other side, he saw Cassie watching them with alarm. And in front of him, he saw the hag hanging suspended in midair, her claws extended towards him, shadows rippling beneath her cloak. Frozen like this, he could see both where she had leaped out from and where she would land, had some idea of what she would do when she reached him.

"What do you think?" Clark asked, glancing down at his partner. "Hit her from behind?"

" _Hmm…nah,"_ said Vayne, looking up at him from his soul space, which was now filled with images of clocks. An infinite number of clocks gleamed from the void around him, each of them displaying a different time, each of them frozen in place. Vayne was grinning, one of his hands extended towards the nearest of the clocks. " _She's still feeling you out. She doesn't have enough momentum built up yet. Might need to get her riled up a little."_

"Good point," said Clark. He shifted his grip on Vayne to a two-handed grip, then shuffled a few inches to the right, nearly at the edge of the glowing circle. Carefully, deliberately, he raised the blade in front of him, holding it in a defensive position as he crouched down behind it. "Alright, release."

Vayne lowered his hand and time began to flow again, the clocks in his soul space and the gears in the circle starting to move even as they faded. The wall vanished and the hag surged forward, flying through the space where Clark had been standing a moment ago. Rei completed his turn, mouth moving again.

"—are you—?" His eyes widened as he saw the hag. "— _what the hell_?"

The hag let out a shriek of rage at having missed, spinning towards Clark and extending her claws towards him. They skittered over the flat of the blade, and Clark jumped back before she could follow-up on the attack, shifting Vayne to one hand and placing a hand on the ground as he landed.

The glowing circle flared up again as the hag rushed at him, time coming to a stop. He took a moment to take stock of her position, then shuffled over to the left. This time, when he released his hold on time, the hag charged straight through, claws extended, before hooking back around to come towards him. He leaped and she followed him into the air, slashing and hissing incoherently. Clark dodged her a third time as he landed. A fourth. A fifth.

On the sixth time, she darted straight past him, snarling in rage, claws extended as her momentum carried her forward, exposing her back.

Clark swung Vayne in a wide arc, the blade slicing her open from shoulder to waist. The hag shrieked one last time, her cry echoing over the stones before she vanished, shadows dissipating in the bright sunlight as her soul remained behind.

He released Vayne as his partner took on his human form, coming to stand next to him. There was a flash of light as Ayame transformed beside Rei, staring at them open-mouthed. Rei and Cassie, on either side of her, wore the same looks of dumbfounded shock.

"Uh—what just happened?" Ayame asked.

"Whatever it was, it was definitely _electrifying,"_ said Vayne, shooting him a grin.

"I know," said Clark, grinning back. "It's almost like time literally stops when I resonate with you."

The two of them bumped fists.

Rei groaned, slapping his face with the palm of his hand.

"Is it getting hot in here, or is it just me?" asked Cassie, tugging at her jacket with one hand and fanning at her face with the other.

"Yeah, seriously guys, I kiss my partner and we're not that sappy," said Ayame.

Cassie blinked, turning towards Ayame in surprise. "Wait, you kiss Rei?!" Cassie asked. "Since when?"

" _Ayame!"_ said Rei, blushing furiously.

Cassie rounded on to him. "You weren't going to tell us?" she asked, "Come on, Rei!"

"Guys, _focus_!" said Rei, his face still a deep red as he looked up at them. He gestured wildly at the scenery around them. "Imminent end of life as we know it here, or am I the only one that remembers that?"

"Right, right," said Cassie, sighing in disappointment. "Get back to the airship, join the battle, no apocalypse selfies. I understand."

"How many followers do you think we would get for an apocalypse selfie?" Ayame asked, looking over at Cassie in interest. "I mean, you know—#savingtheworld, #moonlanding, #shinigamiFTW?"

"That's like, instant viral image material right there," said Vayne.

"Right?" asked Cassie. "Not to mention, the historical value of a picture like that."

"Oh my God, can we just get moving?!" Rei asked, already several feet ahead of them. "We're like our own abridged series!"

Clark sighed, stepping forward. "Our glorious leader has spoken," he said. "Shame. I wanted to take that picture."

"Maybe later," said Cassie with a reassuring smile, moving to follow him.

"Yeah," said Ayame, grinning. "Later. When we win."

Ahead of them, Rei groaned, continuing to march forward. Clark smiled as the rest of them hurried to catch up with him, enjoying the rare moment of lightness. He had a feeling they would need it in the hours ahead.

* * *

Maka leaped off of Soul with the ease of long practice, landing lightly on the deck of the airship. The ship rolled under her feet, the air crackling with energy as blasts of power exploded around them. She kept her knees bent and her legs apart, managing to keep her balance as the ship bucked and rolled beneath her. With her free hand, she scooped up Soul's scythe form from where it was hovering over the floor, holding it in front of her in both hands.

An explosion rang out from overhead, loud enough and close enough to send her ears ringing. The force of the blast threatened to press her against the deck, but Maka managed to stay standing, trudging forward. She shouldered her way past the door that led into the bridge, grabbing the rail that ran along the side of the inner wall as the ship lurched to avoid another blast.

Kid shouted for them to climb higher, his voice sharp and clear even over the proximity alarms that were going off in the small command area. Maka felt the bottom drop out of her stomach as the airship climbed, engineering pouring all of their power into the thrusters to get them higher up in the sky. He spun towards her as they rose up out of the cloud of smoke the explosions had caused, a question in his golden eyes.

"Did you find them?" he asked.

Maka shook her head. "They were too far away," she said. "They didn't seem hurt. Rei managed to catch them."

At least, that was what she had gathered, what her Soul Perception had been able to tell her. But this close to the moon, even her Soul Perception was having difficulties. With all the black blood around, it was hard to sense anything that wasn't Asura.

Anything that wasn't Crona.

A frown came onto her face even as she thought about that, her hands tightening their grip both on Soul and on the railing. What she had felt of Asura's soul wavelength had been thankfully dormant, the same sensation of fear and power that she had once felt beneath the DWMA, in the time before Asura's awakening. What she had felt from Crona had been different. Dormant, so tangled up with Asura's wavelength that it was almost impossible to tell it apart, but slightly more awake.

She thought about what Rei had told him about his dream and wondered if Crona wasn't fighting too.

Kid frowned at her answer, but didn't have time to respond to it, quickly turning back around to look out of the ship's front window. They had risen over the barrage, and in the moments before the Morrigan's defenses locked on to their new position, Maka saw the moon. The Morrigan had set up her defenses on the outskirts, a little perimeter of floating rocks around the moon's blackened surface, but the moon itself was exactly how she remembered it. It looked exactly as it had the last time she had been up here that day, the day they had left Crona behind.

Carefully, in case the ship rolled again, she released her hold on the guard rail, walking up towards Kid. From beside him, she could see their other flyers moving alongside the ship, shooting towards the encampments around the moon. Black Star, shadows wrapped around him, made his way towards the Morrigan's cannons to disable them. Angela, sitting astride Shelley's spear form, made her way towards a bright presence that Maka recognized—Micah's.

A new army had begun to assemble in the sky in front of them, a host of translucent greenish spirits, all arrayed like soldiers in front of their commander, a frightening spirit in a dark cloak standing on a floating chariot, its head tucked beneath its arm and a whip in one of its hands—the Dullahan, one of the Morrigan's servants. She didn't need to consciously use her Soul Perception to feel the evil that wafted off of the creature. A shiver ran down her spine as the Dullahan's wavelength brushed across her skin, and she pressed her lips tightly together, glancing at Kid out of the corner of his eye.

He wasn't looking at the Dullahan. His gaze was drawn higher, just above the moon, where the Morrigan's Soul Wavelength waited.

"Do you think she's really there this time?" Maka asked, glancing at him.

"She's there," Kid said, his expression grim. "We'll end this this time."

His lip curled slightly as he studied the scene, hands closing around pistols that weren't there. Maka wondered what he was sensing, of the Morrigan and of Asura, wondered what he felt about what he did sense. Wondered what he was truly planning on ending.

But now wasn't the time to ask. Her eyes moved back to the scene in front of her, to the army that awaited them. "You're going after her?" she asked. Kid didn't answer, not out loud, but his silence was answer enough. Maka nodded. "Soul and I will handle Dullahan. We should be able to clear you a path."

"I appreciate it," Kid said, although he didn't glance her way. He had eyes, it seemed, only for the moon. To either side of him, Liz and Patty continued to shout orders to the crew, orders that he barely seemed to hear.

She turned to leave.

"Good luck," Kid said abruptly, before she could get very far away. He still wasn't looking at her.

Maka nodded, placing a hand on his shoulder as she passed him.

"Luck to you too," she said.

She had a feeling that they were going to need it.

* * *

The ground sloped upward gently ahead of them, the path taking them up a seemingly endless rise to the top of the moon. Rei climbed steadily onward, drumming his fingers on his leg in an attempt to diffuse some of the frustration. He could feel the battle drawing steadily closer, but from this side, he couldn't see it, couldn't do much more than listen as the sounds drew nearer and feel out with his Soul Perception, trying to get a handle on the combatants and their position. This high up, the air was cold, stinging the inside of his nose and mouth. He paused as he reached the moon's crest, unhooking a canteen of water from his belt and taking a swig.

Then he looked up, seeing the battle for the first time.

"Whoa," Ayame said from beside him, her eyes wide as she looked out at the sky.

Rei had to agree with her.

The battle had been concentrated on the forward side of the moon, just above the moon's grinning face. The Morrigan's forces had assembled on the surface of the moon itself, and on a series of three artificial islands that floated in the air around the moon's surface. One of those islands—the one that had housed the cannons that had attacked the airship earlier—had been torn completely in two, both halves hanging in the air in the grip of the moon's gravity. A blue and black figure—Black Star—was already leaping from the remnants of the cannon's island, shooting towards the airship like a rocket.

The cannons were silent.

The DWMA's airship hung suspended in the air, a nexus of activity. A cluster of bright spectral lights attacked it, humming like wasps, and it took Rei a moment to realize that they were spirits, ghostly figures swarming around the airship and letting out a chorus of wails that made his blood run cold. Their attack was halted by what seemed like an endless amount of gleaming blades, all whirling around the airship at the behest of a figure who stood on the airship's top deck, legs spread slightly apart and hands resting on the hilt of a katana pointed down at the floorboards. What looked like Shelley and Angela were heading towards one of the remaining two islands, and his parents had landed on the moon's surface, tearing their way through the Morrigan's forces. His father's scythe form moved through the air like a storm of steel as the two of them moved closer to the shrouded figure that stood in command.

That left the Morrigan. Her wavelength pulsed, steady and strong, from the highest of the three islands, hundreds of feet over Rei's head. And another wavelength, one powerful enough to drive the breath from his lungs, was rushing up to meet her.

Shinigami himself. Rei's mind swum as he tried to make sense of the forces at play here. Given all of this, it was hard to see what he could do, what he had come here to do.

Ayame's hand slipped into his, squeezing tight. Rei glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, drawing in a deep breath.

Insecurities later. He had a job to do now.

He looked behind him at Clark, Vayne and Cassie, who had reached the crest and were staring at the battle with the same looks of awe that he knew had been mirrored on his own face. Vayne in particular looked pale, his eyes fixed on the spirits swarming the airship, the color draining steadily from his face. Rei turned towards him first, slipping his hand out of Ayame's.

"You alright there, Vayne?" he asked.

Vayne paused for a moment, then nodded, pressing his lips tightly together. He wet his lips with his tongue, tearing his eyes away from the battle with some difficulty as he looked back at Rei.

"Fine," he said, stiffly. "Just fine."

"If you're scared—," Rei began.

"We're all scared," said Vayne, cutting him off. "Let's get this over with."

"We have a plan?" Clark asked, his arms folded as he looked back at the fight.

"Join the battle," said Rei, gesturing at the scene in front of him. "Try not to die. It probably isn't a good idea for us to split up in case we have to resonate, and you and Vayne can't fly. We'll take the forces on the ground, try to help my parents wherever we can. Clark, can you wield Cassie?"

Cassie snorted, cutting Clark off before he could answer. " _Barely_ ," she said. "But don't worry, Rei. Cassie can wield Cassie."

Rei turned towards her, brows raising. "Have you ever fought autonomously before?" he asked.

"Nope," said Cassie, "But there's a first time for everything."

"Cass—," Rei began.

"I'll just distract Clark," said Cassie. "And that's not something we can afford right now. Don't worry about me, Rei. I can warp reality. I'll figure something out."

There wasn't any time to argue. Rei held her gaze for a moment before letting out a frustrated sigh. "Fine," he said. "Just try to stay out of the worst of it. Find some cover and give us support from there."

"Can do," said Cassie, nodding.

"Vayne," said Clark, extending a hand towards his partner. Vayne nodded, light engulfing his body as he took on his pendulum form. Rei did the same to Ayame, fingers crooked in one of their hand gestures. He felt the weight of her Cloak form—now the winged Zero Star form Nocturne—settle over his shoulders and back as he looked at the others, ready to signal them forward.

He stopped as he felt a wavelength shooting towards them, coming from the side of the moon.

"Look out!" he said, reaching out and grabbing Cassie by the arm as he leaped into the air. Clark did the same as a figure shot towards them, pink light gleaming around her like a storm as she landed in the space where they had been standing. Blades sliced into the earth beneath her feet, kicking up a cloud of dust and black blood. The dust cleared, revealing the slight figure of a blond woman, her face pale and eyes empty as they searched the sky for her opponents.

Elaine.

Rei looked around from where he hovered with Cassie and Ayame in the air, looking for Clark and Vayne. The two of them had landed on the stones several feet away. He saw Clark look at Elaine, saw the emotions play across his face. Surprise, then grief, loss and longing. All those feelings appeared on his face, then faded into a look of steely determination as he came to a conclusion. Rei's eyes widened as he felt suddenly, with cold certainty, what Clark was about to do.

"Clark!" he said, shouting in alarm. "Don't do anything drastic! We can fight her together—."

He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence. Light gleamed along the length of Vayne's blade as Clark and Vayne's souls came together again. The other meister kicked off of the ground, shooting towards Elaine like a rocket. Rei stretched his hand out towards Clark, trying in vain to stop him, but a circle of gold appeared on the ground beneath Clark's feet, engulfing both him and Elaine.

Time came to a stop.

* * *

" _What do you expect to do, idiot? You don't even have a body."_

"… _Body?"_

" _Don't tell me you forgot. Did your brain turn to mush while we've been trapped up here?! Your body is the only thing still stopping the Kishin from killing everyone!"_

"… _Kishin…"_

" _Yeah, dimwit! So if you wanna help them, you're going to need a vessel."_

"… _A…vessel…?"_

" _That's right, loser. You need to find a body that can take the black blood."_

" _Black…blood…"_

The words brought some amount of awareness back into itself, thoughts crystallizing and bringing with them memories. Black blood, black blood, black…The presence stretched out its awareness, brushing against the Soul Responses of the assembled combatants, thinking, searching.

Its attention converged on one point, a Soul Response that seemed familiar. The response brought with it another memory. A girl, blond hair, pig tails. Green eyes. What was her name?

" _Her name was Maka! Keep it together, you idiot! Don't space out on me again!"_

Maka. That was right. Her name was Maka. Maka was a friend.

And the presence…it…they had a name too, didn't they? What was their name…?

" _Oi! Crona! Pay attention!"_

That's right, they thought, a sense of giddiness passing through them. Their name was Crona.

And if they were Crona, and Maka was Maka, then…

Awareness burst from somewhere deep inside of their mind, the fractured pieces of their consciousness coalescing together to form something else, something whole, complete.

" _Ragnarok,"_ they said.

" _Yes,"_ said the annoying voice. " _Yes, it's me! You remember me, don't you, Crona?"_

Another search, conscious this time, aware. Scanning the Soul Responses of the outsiders assembled, looking for the one they needed.

There. That was it. Their awareness converged on that single point, that small, infinitesimally tiny soul.

" _Ragnarok,"_ Crona said, their voice soft despite the fact that voices couldn't be soft when one didn't have a mouth to speak with or ears to hear with.

" _Yeah, what is it?"_ Ragnarok asked. " _Did you find something?"_

He focused in again on that soul, that small, uncertain soul. He thought he could feel something about that wavelength, something that reminded him of his own, carelessly discarded form. He honed in on it, that tiny pinprick of light. What was it that was so familiar about it? He didn't understand, and then suddenly he did.

" _My blood is black, you know…"_

* * *

A flash of light and then he was somewhere else, somewhere that almost had physical form. Memories flashed into his mind—a desert, a beach with water—but this wasn't a desert. It was sort of the same thing, he thought, or maybe it wasn't. It was something very similar.

Except it was a room. A small, circular stone room. The room wasn't dark like the room that Medusa used to keep him in as a child, but neither did it seem to have any door. It had a window though, Crona noted as he glanced at it. He could now—glance at it, he meant. Something about this space had given him his body back. It wasn't really a body, not the same way his real body was, but it looked and felt a lot like him. He thought that was because this room's owner probably couldn't comprehend the abstract reality of a free-floating consciousness and felt a twinge of sympathy for her. He hadn't been able to either, back when he had a body. It was something he'd had to learn when he'd had to do without.

The window seemed to show scenery in the distance, stretching as far as his eyes could see but seeming very far away. It took Crona a moment to realize why that was, it being so long since he had seen any sort of scenery. When he understood what he was looking at, he felt another strange of giddiness, a sense of mad, childlike pleasure at putting two and two together and finding that it meant four again. The scenery looked far away because they were very high up. On top of a tower.

He looked around at the room. It had probably been a very pretty room at one point, the sort of room a little princess might find herself in, except somehow it had become a mess. Someone had gone through it and cut everything to pieces. There were slash marks on the drapes and on the huge four-poster bed, gashes torn into bookcases and toys scattered all over the floor.

Something black and oily pooled in the corners of the room, oozing slowly towards its one occupant. Crona was careful not to step in it as he walked towards her, towards the girl curled up against the stone wall of the room, her arms wrapped tightly around herself and her face buried into her knees. She was young, couldn't be more than eight, dressed in a black dress that had probably once been very pretty. Her hair was long and white, the color of snow, and stretched out across the floor around her. She was shaking.

A doll lay on the ground in front of her, long porcelain limbs sprawled out on the floor. The doll lay face down on the ground, unmoving, its bare feet resting in the pool of black liquid. It was dressed in black, long white hair on its head the same length and shade as the girl's. Its hand seemed to twitch as he approached. Crona edged warily around the doll, moving towards the girl.

"I can't go outside…" Crona heard her mutter to herself as he neared her, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. She was murmuring in a soft, feverish pace he recognized, the way someone spoke when they were in the grip of madness. "Cori's not here. Rei's not here. Mama's not here. Papa's not here. I'm all alone. I can't go outside. I can't go outside. I can't…"

"Hello," he said, crouching in front of her. "Can I help you?"

She sucked in a breath of surprise and fear, turning away from him and drawing her legs up closer to herself. "Go away," she said, still muttering. "Go away, go away, go away, go away—."

Something about her was familiar. Not the way she was muttering to herself— _that_ was something he understood—but something else. Something in the shape of her soul, something in her voice, something in those—he noticed—green eyes. He _understood_ , felt his eyes widen slightly with that understanding—he couldn't have been gone _that_ long, could he—and then he remembered the desert that became a beach and he smiled, reaching tentatively for her.

"It's okay," he said. "You can trust me. I know your mother."

That got the girl to look up. "M-Mama?" she asked hesitantly, rubbing at her eyes. "You know Mama?"

A wave of bitterness rushed through him as she blinked up at him, eyes the same green as Maka's, a wave of regret and guilt and old pain. "Yes," he heard himself saying. "We used to be friends."

She drew in a breath, blinking up at him, and seemed to come to a decision. "I'm Anima…" she said, still shaking. "But everyone calls me Annie. What's your name?"

"My name is Crona," he said, and he couldn't help the surge of elation at having a name, at remembering that he had a name. He let his arm come back to himself, folding his arms together on top of his own knees. "What did you do to your pretty room, Annie?"

She looked around the room, her eyes widening in fear and—Crona thought—a little bit of shame. Her shoulders started shaking more and she looked away from him, drawing her knees up close to herself again. "It wasn't me, it wasn't me, it wasn't me," she said. "It wasn't me, it wasn't me, it wasn't—."

"It's okay," Crona said, reaching for her. He let his hand fall tentatively onto her shoulder. "I understand."

Her muttering stopped, and she blinked tears out of her eyes as she looked up at him. "You do…?" she asked.

"Yes," he said. On a hunch, he added. "My blood is black, you know."

She stared up at him and then tears filled her eyes again. Her shoulder beneath his hand kept on shaking, but she didn't look away. "Bad things happen when Cori isn't here," she said, speaking quietly as if she was confessing a secret. "I do bad things…I don't like to be alone."

He nodded sagely. "It's hard, isn't it? To be alone?"

"I want Cori back," she said, looking back down at the ground. She sounded like she was about to cry. "I want Rei back."

He didn't know what a Cori was or what a Rei was, but he thought he understood. She had a Cori and a Rei. There was a time when he had had a Maka.

"I don't know where they are, so I can't find them for you," he said. "But I think they might be here." Wherever _here_ was. "Somewhere. Do you know if they're here, Annie-chan?"

"Rei is here," said Annie. "But he's far away. He can't hear me. I don't know where Cori is. I want Rei…"

Rei. He remembered vaguely reaching out for Maka and finding someone else instead. Rei, Rei, ray of light…if that was the case then that person was definitely here. He frowned, his expression growing solemn as he watched the little girl.

"If Rei is here, then I need you to help me," he said. "I need you to go outside with me, Annie-chan. Can we do that?"

"No," she said, shrinking back from him and shaking her head. "No, no, no, no, no. I can't go outside. I can't…bad things happen when I go outside. I can't. I can't go. My…my blood…"

"…is black," Crona finished for her. He tilted his head, smiling at her. "That's alright," he said. "Mine is too. Sometimes that's a bad thing. But right now…right now I think Rei and Maka and all of those other people need it. I want to help them, but I can't do it without you."

She blinked up at him, still sniffling. "Rei needs me…?" she asked.

"Probably," Crona said.

"Mama too?"

"Maybe."

She sniffed, looking back down at the ground. "But if bad things happen—if no one's there to stop me—."

"I'll stop you," Crona said. "You just need to trust me, Annie-chan."

"But…" Annie began.

"I know," Crona said. He spoke without realizing he was speaking. He didn't know where the words came from, but they came from a place that felt natural, a place that he didn't have to think about. He thought it was a little bit like madness, except it wasn't.

Maybe it was bravery.

"I know it's scary to go outside, Annie-chan. I'm scared of the outside too. I know it feels like inside is safest. But there are people outside that need you, and that need me too, and I really want to go and help them. It's alright if you don't, if you want to stay in Mr. Corner, I understand. But I'm going to go, and I'm going to try to help them. I probably won't be able to without you—I don't have a body right now, you know, but I'm going to try anyway because I…because I think there's people out there who I want to protect."

She stared at him, taking it all in, then slowly raised her hand, wiping at her eyes. "You…can help me help Rei?" she asked.

"I can try," Crona said. "We can help him together."

She took in a shaky breath, looking from him to the room around her, to the steadily spreading pool of black liquid on the floor. Her eyes landed back on his and she slowly extended a hand.

"Okay…" she said.


	49. Lunacy Pt. 3, Order and Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're on Chapter 48, guys! I can't believe it! Hope you all enjoy this chapter, and the next couple of chapters before the end. For my part, I'm super excited, both for the ending and the epilogue. Enjoy!

**CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT**

**Lunacy Pt. 3, Order and Fear**

* * *

A circle of gold spread out from around his feet, engulfing both him and his mother. Outside of the circle, Clark saw the rest of the world grind to a halt, saw Rei freeze in midair, hand outstretched towards him, wings frozen mid-beat. In front of him, his mother didn't pause, but continued to charge as if she hadn't noticed the circle at all. A pale pink light surrounded her hands, morphing into a pair of daggers. She twisted around as she reached him, her eyes shadowed by the curtain of her hair.

Clark swung Vayne in front of himself, managing to catch her attack on the weapon's flat. The blade skittered across the smooth expanse of steel. Before Elaine's momentum could get the best of her, she planted her foot lightly on Vayne's flat, kicking off of it and launching herself back into the air. She flipped over, landing nimbly on the ground a few feet away, and charged at him again, slashing at him with both daggers. Clark slid back, careful to stay within the circle, and blocked the attack.

Elaine simply redirected her energy, pressing against Vayne with the hands that held the daggers and sliding a few inches to the side. She spun the dagger in her left hand around deftly, the point of the blade sliding through the thin space between Vayne's handle and the blade. Clark jerked back, eyes widening. He managed to avoid getting stabbed in the chest, but only barely. The sudden movement brought the dagger's tip up and into the skin of his arm, cutting a line down his forearm as he moved away.

His mother was relentless, pressing the attack. It was all he could do to defend against her, his heart pounding. He swatted aside her next strike with the flat of Vayne's blade, then blocked her follow-up slash with his free arm, batting her arm away. He tried to slide in, tried to grab her by the front of her clothes, to restrain her, but she twisted in his grasp, yanking him back and flipping over in the air. Her foot connected with the side of his head, hard enough to make him see stars, and Clark grunted as the blow threw him to the ground.

His vision went black for a second, but he managed to stop himself from falling just in time. She launched herself at him again, both blades pointed downward in her hands, and he managed to bring Vayne up just in time, the dagger's points slamming into the steel. Beneath his fingers, Vayne let out a grunt of startled pain, stumbling slightly in the orange void of his soul space. Clark's eyes moved upward, over their crossed blade's searching out his mother's.

She stared at him, her gray eyes wide, utterly devoid of feeling. Those eyes were so different from the woman he knew, the one he remembered. Back then, she had been warm, sweet. Kind. He still remembered her arms around him, picking him up from the ground when he had fallen, wiping away his tears.

That woman wasn't here now. She pushed back off of Vayne, all power and lithe strength, and the force behind the push was hard enough to send him sliding back, hard enough to nearly force him over the boundary of the circle.

" _Clark!"_ Vayne said as he righted himself, his voice a warning.

Clark nodded, his eyes narrowing as he adjusted his glasses with one hand. On the other side of the circle, Elaine Greysteil watched him like a stalking cat, a dagger in each hand. He could see the electricity sparking at her fingertips and knew there was no way, no way that he could win this. She was too skilled, too powerful, too empty of the same attachments that he had for her.

She would kill him, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Just like she had killed Ophelia.

But she was in there, somewhere. He knew that, had seen it in her yesterday, when the fog over her eyes had lifted just slightly, when she had called his name. He knew it, and that was why he couldn't give up. That was why he had to fight her alone.

Because if she was still in there, then he had to try. He had to try to bring her back. And if she couldn't be brought back, if there was nothing he could do for her…

Then this was his battle to fight. Not Rei's, not Ayame's, not Cassie's. This was his war and nobody else's.

The only way to win would be to use every power available to him, and to do it at once. One concentrated strike, one where he couldn't hold back. If he hesitated, she would easily defeat him. If he tried to use his wavelength for too long, there was nothing stopping him from suffering the same fate. But he didn't want to do it. It was a choice between her and him, a choice between her and the world, and the five-year-old inside of him that had been waiting for this day for years still wanted to choose her.

Probably always would.

"Mom," he said, hearing the strain in his voice, the pleading. He raised his eyes to hers, feeling tears fill them from behind his glasses. "Mom, please. Come back. Come back to me."

Elaine showed no indication of having heard. She turned her head to him, but it was the calm regard of predator to prey. If she understood the words at all, she showed no sign of it.

He knew that it was lost then. He had no other choice.

There might not have been anyone in there at all.

She charged at him, wavelength snapping to life around her, and inside of himself, Clark let the same wavelength rise up, energy pouring into his fingertips. The air around him charged with static electricity as he faced her, already feeling the madness pushing against the outskirts of his mind, the comfortable white noise that he wanted to sink into. Its temptation was a siren song, but he ignored it, pushed it back with sheer force of will. If he was going to do this, he was going to be clear-headed. He wasn't going to escape, to let himself escape.

He was going to remember everything.

She charged at him and he dropped into a stance, knees bent, arms extended. The fingers of one of his hands thrust upward, heading towards her chest, the lance of lightning following in its wake. It struck her headlong, and Clark felt something shatter as the power slammed into her, the energy strong enough to catch her in midair. Clark saw her eyes widen as the Paralyzing Wavelength ran through her, something like surprise crossing her features. In that one frozen moment, her eyes caught his, widening in recognition.

And then the attack launched her backwards through the air, slamming her onto the ground. She landed in the center of the circle, hair covering her face, limbs splayed around her, and didn't get back up.

Clark let out a ragged breath as he released the wavelength he was holding, dropping to his knees. He stabbed the point of Vayne's blade into the ground, using it to hold himself up as his strength left him, as he bowed his head and let out a choked sob. Vayne's reflection appeared in the flat of the blade, eyes wide in concern, hands pressed against the steel as if he was trying to press through the barrier and reach him.

" _Clark…"_ Vayne said, his voice soft like he didn't know what to say.

Clark shook his head fiercely, letting out another sob. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and he tore his glasses off of his face in frustration, raising his arm to brush them away. Vayne's wavelength pulsed unsteadily beneath his fingertips, and it was just the two of them for that moment, alone beyond the flow of time.

" _You did what you had to, Clark…"_ Vayne said. " _You did what you had to…"_

Clark didn't look up, only cried harder.

And then something happened.

There was a sound, the sound of cloth rustling, one that he barely registered at the edge of his consciousness. The world could have ended just then and he wouldn't have cared.

But Vayne did care. His partner spun around in his soul space, his eyes widening as he looked at what was behind them.

" _Clark,"_ Vayne said, a touch of wonder in his voice. " _Clark, look up."_

"I don't care," Clark mumbled, his voice coming out broken. "Whatever it is, it can wait."

" _This can't wait,"_ Vayne said. " _Trust me, man. Look up."_

Clark hesitated, but when it came down to it, he did trust Vayne. With his life. In the end it was the bond between them, the trust they shared, that made him raise his head, made him turn to see what Vayne found so interesting.

When he did, he couldn't believe his eyes.

Elaine Greysteil was sitting up, looking around her in some confusion. The pink light of the Magatama had settled into the form of a jewel hanging just over her chest, and her mouth was open slightly as she looked around, eyes widening as she took in the gold light that surrounded them. Clark rubbed at his eyes and placed his glasses back on his face to be sure, but she was still there, pressing a hand over her chest as if she had lost something that had once been there.

Her eyes landed on him, and the light that flared into them, the recognition, followed by guilt and joy and all of the things that he had expected from their reunion, was everything that he had ever wanted.

"Clark!" she said, leaping to her feet.

She ran to him, and Clark couldn't stop himself from releasing Vayne, couldn't stop himself from running to her. Their arms wrapped around each other as the circle of light around them faded, the two of them sinking to their knees.

They held each other as they knelt on the ground, time beginning to flow again.

* * *

The Morrigan waited for him at the top of the last island, her back turned towards him as she faced the moon. She was dressed in a long black gown, the dress's train rippling like water on the black stone beneath her. Her hair was pinned up in an elegant fashion, her back ramrod straight. Aside from the milky paleness of her skin, there wasn't a spot of light anywhere around her. It was as if she absorbed all color, all light, all hope.

In some ways, she looked like a queen.

Kid landed on the ground several feet behind her, arms extended, the sights of both pistols trained on the pale expanse of her back. He knew that the Morrigan knew he was there, but she didn't move, didn't turn, didn't so much as tense. His fingers inched towards the triggers.

"Don't move," he said, keeping his hands steady.

"Or you'll shoot me?" the Morrigan asked, her tone amused. "Don't make me laugh, child."

Kid scowled, but kept his fingers off the triggers. She was right. He didn't dare shoot her until he knew how far along she was in the process of absorbing Asura. If he shot her at the wrong time, broke her concentration—.

"At the end of the day," the Morrigan said, "you fear your brother more than you fear me. Isn't that right, Shinigami?"

Kid didn't answer. At his silence, the Morrigan turned around slowly, her eyes on him all the while. His fingers twitched towards the triggers, pulled back. Her eyes, normally the color of wine, were a bright red, a red that glowed. It was the only colorful part of her. Her lips quirked, noticing his reaction, and she raised one hand, a droplet of black blood trickling from her fingertips. As Kid watched, the droplet lifted itself from her cupped hand, shooting between each of her moving fingertips like a small bullet. Her eyes dropped towards it for a moment, watching its movements.

"Fascinating," she said. "As unorthodox as she was, Medusa Gorgon did show the occasional spark of brilliance. I suppose that's only to be expected. Even a stopped watch is right twice a day." She looked back up at Kid. "As you can see, the process has already begun. You can put those ridiculous guns away. We both know you aren't going to shoot me. At the very least, you should be celebrating me. You were never going to solve this problem of Asura anyway. This power was never meant to be yours, and Asura would never have bowed to you."

"That power was never meant for _you_ ," Kid said, pointing his guns at the Morrigan's face. "Or for anyone."

The Morrigan scoffed, flicking her fingers. The speck of black blood went flying, landing in the dirt at her feet. "You would have left it up here for eternity if you had the chance," she said. "A hero's bounty. Power, immortality, godhood. Someone would have come to claim it eventually. If not me, then another."

"I would have dealt with it when I had the chance," Kid said.

"Oh, really?" the Morrigan asked, arching one delicate eyebrow. "Pray tell, how? The Deaths of the past may have contained both Order and Fear within themselves, but not you, child. You were created to bear only Order. Asura's power would destroy you, and leave the world worse off in the process. Surely you see I'm the lesser of two evils."

"You would destroy the world," Kid said, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"I would remake it," the Morrigan replied. "Build it anew, build it better. The world needs a strong hand, not a fledgling Shinigami. But fear not, I know that you would not be so easy to kill, and I have no desire to relieve you of that Fragment of Order. You and yours could have a place in this new world. I'm always looking for capable servants."

Kid snorted in derision. "I've seen how you treat your family," he said. "I'd hate to see how you treat your servants."

The Morrigan flicked her fingers across the front of her dress, brushing away an imaginary mote of dust. "Family," she said. "A thousand years will weaken any bond. Even those between a mother and child, particularly when the child turns against the mother. And perhaps in a thousand years you will gain enough strength to defeat me. But that is my risk to bear."

"You really expect me to believe you'd let me walk free. Me and the rest of the DWMA?"

The Morrigan shrugged one shoulder, a delicate gesture. "I'd have both ultimate power and the will to use it," she said. "You'd hardly be a threat to me. As for later, well—the world cycles naturally between regimes. Order. Fear. Knowledge. Wrath. Power. Order has had its reign for a thousand years. Perhaps it's time for Fear to have a chance."

"I can't let you do that," Kid said, scowling.

"And yet," the Morrigan said, "you already are. Now watch, as I herald in a new era."

She turned away from him, facing the moon below her, her arms spread out at her side. Kid grit his teeth, fingers hovering over the triggers as power surrounded her, washing over her soul. She was defenseless now. He had to shoot, but he couldn't. His fingers inched closer to the triggers, almost touching them—

A figure rose up in front of the moon, a streak of light and shadow as bright as the sun. For a moment, Black Star hovered in the sky, sword extended, eyes fixed on the Morrigan, mouth split open in a gleeful grin.

"Black Star!" Kid shouted, his eyes widening. "Don't—!"

Black Star didn't seem to hear him. The warrior god opened his mouth, letting out a powerful battle cry as he charged, diving towards the Morrigan. He had caught her off-guard, and she raised her arms up to protect herself, eyes wide in surprise. Kid saw the first flash of magic appear at her fingertips before Black Star's sword came crashing through, shattering her makeshift barrier and throwing her back. She hit the ground hard enough to form a crater, groaning in pain.

And around her, the black blood began to seep and coalesce, rising up off the ground and forming shapes of its own.

* * *

A wall of earth rose up around Micah, blocking Angela's spear strikes as she rushed at him. She landed neatly on the ground, the wind flaring out behind her as she shifted position, sweeping the blade of her staff at him from the side. Micah danced backward, narrowly avoiding the blow. The jewel at his neck glowed brightly as he held up the card of the Hierophant, a shield forming in front of him to stop her follow-up strikes. Micah darted to the edge of the stone island they were fighting on, and Angela took the moment to center herself, snapping the spear back up to her side as she turned to face him.

The air and dust stung the back of her throat as she breathed deeply, sweat plastering her hair to the side of her face. Off to her left, she heard the report of the cannons situated on this island, firing intermittently now that Micah was occupied, but still occasionally sending a volley of blasts at the airship. She shifted Shelley's spear form to her other hand, sweeping the blade out to the side in a long arc. The wind trailed behind the spear's tip, a crescent-shaped blade of wind slamming into the cannons and silencing them as she blocked Micah's next blow with the spear's shaft. The two of them met each other's eyes in the center of the small island, the wind whipping around her as Micah glared at her.

The two of them sprang apart again. Angela kept a wary eye on Micah as he moved to flank her, already reaching into his coat for his cards. She shifted her grip on the spear's shaft, feeling a humming tension in the metal beneath her fingertips, feeling Shelley's awareness as she kept her eyes on the other meister, turning her body to follow him.

"You alright, Shell?" she asked, directing the question down towards her weapon.

Shelley didn't answer, but for a moment her face became reflected in the spear's blade. She was standing with her back straight, her arms folded tight against her chest. Light shone off of her glasses, hiding her eyes from view as the wind whipped itself around her, tugging at her hair.

Angela looked back at Micah as he charged in ahead of her, snapping the spear's tip up to bear.

The ground beneath their feet shook in the instant before they connected, a tremor running through the earth. The quake knocked them both out of alignment, so that Micah's fist sailed through empty air while she stumbled back, the two of them nearly losing their balance.

From the moon below them, there came a loud groaning sound, like the stones themselves being rearranged. A laugh, low, deep and terrifying echoed from the surface below them. Angela jabbed the spear's butt at the ground, using it to keep her balance as she looked up at Micah. He looked back at her, his red eyes wide, his own face pale.

The answer was clear. He had no idea what was going on here either.

Against her better judgment, she took her eyes off of Micah, looking back down at the moon. What she saw there stopped her heart.

The black blood was in motion, lifting off of the lunar surface and from the sky around the moon. Here and there, where battles were being fought, pockets of black blood formed domes that encircled combatants, but the majority of it was gathering, feeding into a swirling vortex near the crest of the moon.

Not near the island where the Morrigan had been standing. As a matter of fact, the black blood seemed to be angling itself _away_ from the Morrigan, as if it was being summoned by another power. Another…

"No," Micah breathed, coming to a stop beside her. He stared at the growing darkness with a look of disbelief on his face, his eyes tracking from the Morrigan's island to the swirling mass of black blood. "No…" he said again. "That's not possible. That's not right. That's not what we intended."

"What you _intended_?" Anger surged through Angela, so sudden and fierce that she barely recognized it until she had a hand around the scruff of Micah's collar, until she was whipping him around to face her. "It's not what you _intended?!_ Micah, look what you've done! Look what _all of you_ have done!"

With her free hand, she gestured at the gathering storm. Micah shook his head, his face pale and bloodless. "It's not us," he said, sounding desperate. "It can't—this can't be happening. The Morrigan—the Morrigan wouldn't fail. It's not—it's not real. It can't be—."

She wanted to hit him. Her hands were full, so she settled for shaking him instead.

"It _is_ happening, you delusional idiot!" she said. "It's happening because of you!"

For a second, Micah looked lost, his eyes searching Angela's, bright red and wide with confusion. Then they narrowed dangerously, a terrible light shining into them as his hand came up, grabbing onto hers with a grip like a vise.

"No," he said, his lips curling into an ugly sneer. "It's a trick. Another one of your _illusions_. It has to be. The Morrigan's plan was perfect. She would never lose to the likes of you."

He shifted his weight, slamming into her with his shoulder. Angela leaped back to lessen the impact of the blow, but it still knocked her off-balance as she landed in the center of the small island, the shaft of her spear held up in front of her to guard against a follow up attack. Micah leaped into range before she could recover, the light of the Strength card appearing in the air around him as he kicked at her middle.

She caught the blow with the shaft, but it was still enough to stagger her.

"Micah, please!" she said, as she caught her balance. "This isn't the time to fight! We have to—!"

"Shut up!" Micah said, reaching into his pocket. The look on his face was crazed, his mouth pulled back into a snarl. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a single card. "I've given you two enough chances, but it doesn't matter now! It's time to end this!"

He held the Death card aloft, the jewel at his neck shining as the card began to glow.

And Shelley moved.

Angela didn't register her partner's movement at first, as focused as she was on Micah. By the time she realized what was going on, Shelley was already standing beside her in human form and her hands were closed on empty air. The wind whipped around her partner as Shelley grabbed onto Angela's shoulder, shifting her weight, and threw her backward with enough force to send her flying. She landed on the edge of the floating island, eyes wide as she tried to run back towards Shelley and Micah.

A whirlwind rose up around the two of them, blocking Angela's way. Angela drew to a stop just outside of the vortex, breathing hard.

"Shelley!" she shouted. "Shelley, what do you think you're doing?!"

Shelley didn't answer, keeping her back towards her meister. As Angela watched, she held both her hands out to her side, her fingers shifting into slender scalpel blades. Her gold eyes were fixed entirely on him.

Darkness swirled around them both, hiding them from view.

* * *

In an eye blink, everything changed. One moment, Clark was charging towards Elaine, blade out. In the next, the two of them were kneeling on the ground, holding each other tight, Vayne's pendulum form stabbed into the ground several feet away. Rei hovered in the air for a moment, uncertain. When Elaine showed no sign of attacking them, he landed carefully on the ground, keeping his distance.

"Clark?" he asked.

He stepped forward, but before he could move any closer, Vayne transformed, holding out a hand to stop him. Rei looked up at his friend, but Vayne's eyes weren't on him.

"It's really you," Clark said after a moment, disentangling himself from his mother's embrace. "You're really back."

"I—I think I am," said Elaine, smoothing Clark's hair out of his face. One of her hands lingered on his cheek as she reluctantly drew back from him, the other moving to press lightly against her chest, just over where her soul rested. "You must have done something, Clark. In that last attack…you must have hit my soul. That's the only explanation I can think of—the only reason why I don't feel that wavelength anymore."

Clark blinked at her, uncomprehending, his eyes red from crying. "You mean it's gone?" he asked.

"It's gone," said Elaine, a look of wonder on her face. "All of my life, I've wanted that wavelength to disappear. It was a power I never wanted. I—." Sorrow washed across her face suddenly, the sorrow of realization. Her eyes lifted to meet his. "I only wish I could have done the same for you."

Clark's eyes widened, his own hand pressing over, although Rei knew he couldn't see it, the skin just above his soul. Even from this distance, Rei could see the spark of static that arced around the blue orb, could see the brief look of regret on Clark's face. Then he pressed his lips tightly together and shook his head, looking back at her.

"I don't mind," he said. "Really, I don't. That power helped me save you."

"Oh, Clark…" Elaine said, her eyes filling with tears. "That power is more of a curse than a blessing. You understand that, don't you?"

Clark didn't answer. Instead, he bowed his head, hiding his face from Rei's view. His shoulders shook, one of his hands going up to rest over his mother's. When he spoke, his voice was so soft that Rei almost couldn't hear it, the words said so brokenly.

"Why did you leave?"

"I never wanted to," Elaine said. "Believe me, Clark. I _never_ wanted to. But I—I could feel myself fading. And you were so young—I didn't want you to see that. You shouldn't have had to see that in me."

Clark bowed his head further, his shoulders shaking.

And then the moon beneath them shook and rattled, making Rei look up in alarm.

" _Rei!"_ Ayame screamed, a warning in her tone. Rei spread his wings and widened his stance, trying to keep his footing as the moon rocked and trembled. He heard Cassie scream and reached out with a hand, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her close to him.

In the distance, Rei heard the sound of stone scraping against stone. Then he felt it, washing over his skin, a wavelength so terrifying that it stopped him cold, the breath freezing in his lungs. He felt a presence in the air and stone around him, slithering across his consciousness like a snake. He looked up at Vayne and Clark, at Elaine, and realized that they felt it too.

The shaking stopped. In the silence that followed, the black blood beneath them slowly peeled away from the moon's surface, pooling in crevices and craters. The surface beneath the blood was golden stone, but Rei didn't have enough time to notice the contrast. The blood was moving, rising up, forming an army of faceless willowy beings, with long limbs, gaping mouths, and bright eyes. They shuffled forward, pushing the six of them closer to the crest's edge.

Rei backed up, keeping a tight grip on Cassie's arm as Clark and Vayne did the same. Elaine moved last, an arm thrown out protectively over Clark as she turned to face the creatures. All around the moon, the same things were happening, the black blood rising up around them.

"What is it?" Cassie asked, her hands clasped over her ears as if she could block out the world. "What's happening?!"

"Asura," Rei breathed, looking back over his shoulder at the drop. The Morrigan's forces had ceased their attack on the airship, but his parents were still fighting, the black blood rising up until he couldn't see them. Between him and them was another army, waiting at their backs.

He couldn't think of any other explanation for this wavelength, for the fear in him. He knew what must have happened, even though his mouth went dry to think about it.

"Go," Elaine said, looking back at them.

Clark's eyes widened. "I can't—."

The pink light of the Magatama was already spreading over Elaine's fingertips, forming daggers in her hands. The look she shot back at him brooked no argument. "Go!" she said. "Please. I'll hold them back."

Clark's eyes widened, fixing on Elaine in disbelief. "I can't leave you," he said. "Please don't make me."

Elaine shook her head, sorrow in her eyes. "I've caused you enough pain already," she said. "Let me do this for you, please. It's the one thing I can do for you as your mother. I need you to survive. Please."

Clark shook his head, opening his mouth to argue. Before he could get a word out, Elaine looked back, her eyes fixing on Rei's. There was an ocean in them, sadness and pain and hope and longing and feelings that Rei couldn't name, and somehow he knew that this moment would stay with him, would remain somewhere in his soul, incorporated into the fabric of his being, long after this event was past.

"Take care of him," she said. "Please."

And then before Clark could protest, she pressed her hand against his chest, pushing hard and sending him tumbling back over the edge.

"Clark!" Vayne shouted, transforming into weapon form as he leaped after him.

Rei's eyes widened, and before he had even thought it through, he grabbed Cassie and jumped off of the edge, catching Clark by the back of his collar a second before Clark hit the ground. Rei let out a grunt of effort as he lowered all of them to the ground, looking back up at the ledge he had jumped from. Elaine was there, the pink light of the Magatama surrounding her as she fought against the creatures attacking them, steadily, methodically. The black blood rose up around her like a wall, engulfing her until she too was hidden from view.

"No!" Clark shouted, jumping to his feet. "No! No, Mom! _MOM!"_

Rei grit his teeth, grabbing Clark around by the front of his shirt and tugging him roughly to face him. "Bigger fish to fry," he told Clark, shaking him once for good measure. "I need you focused right now. Please."

Clark blinked up at him, tears streaming down his face, breath coming in short gasps. Rei felt wetness in his own eyes and knew that he was close to crying too, but he blinked his own tears away, releasing Clark and turning to face the landscape ahead of them.

It didn't look good. His parents had been encased in a black dome similar to Elaine's, and several of the blood creatures were already shambling towards them, an army of shadows. The airship was still there, hovering a safe distance away, but for how much longer?

Clark caught him eyeing the distance from here to the airship and spoke.

"We're not running," he said, his voice hoarse with grief. He settled into a stance, Vayne's pendulum form resting in one hand. "Not this time."

Rei didn't answer. Instead, he swept his hand over the remnants of the Cloak of Shadows in front of him. Ayame shimmered as she shifted forms, the scythe blade of Requiem appearing in his hands. He squared his stance, turning to face the horde. The black blood rose up around them as the horde neared, forming a dome, locking them in, erasing the sky. Erasing their last chance of escape.

Rei held fast, waiting for the battle to start, waiting for the gap above them to close, the last vestige of blue sky to fade away. The walls climbed higher around them, the dome closing.

His soul reached out, finding Ayame's first, wrapping around hers in Resonance. Then, Ayame's warmth flooding him, he reached out for Clark, for Cassie. Their souls joined his, a link forming between them. Between him and Clark, between him and Vayne through Clark. Between him and Cassie.

It was a fragile, lopsided resonance, but it was what they had, and he felt it lending him strength.

The last trace of blue sky vanished behind a curtain of black. Rei held his breath, prepared to give it all in the end.

A sword sliced through the dome, cutting it open.

Light flared up behind the sword cuts, burning away the edges of the shadow. Through the gap torn in the black dome, Rei glimpsed a figure hovering in the sky, dark hair streaming out behind her. White wings appeared in the air just over her shoulders, and in her right hand, she held a gleaming sword. She swooped down, the sword moving almost too fast to see. It cut through the first rank of shambling creatures, and they twitched as they fell to the ground, black blood burning and bubbling where the sword had touched.

Rei stared in disbelief.

Morgan Fay landed on the ground in front of him, the sword held lightly in her hand. She swept it out in front of her in an elegant flourish, facing the ranks that attacked them. Her back was straight, her expression stone.

"Sorry I'm late," she said. "Had to go reclaim some property of my uncle's. Hope I haven't missed anything."

* * *

Dullahan's skeletal arm whipped around, lashing out at Maka's torso. She caught the side of the limb with the shaft of Soul's scythe form, pushing off of it. Maka leaped into the air, spinning the blade around her head with one deft movement, and brought it back down in an overhead slash, cutting down at Dullahan from above. The skeletal creature slid back out of the way, bones creaking and snapping back into place as it landed. Under its arm, its head rattled, eyes open wide as it sneered at them.

Maka landed on the ground several feet away, letting out a little puff of air as she straightened up. The scythe's handle was tucked under her arm, its blade stretched out towards the monster.

In front of her, Dullahan was a writhing mass of shadow and bone. The creature hovered in the air on its chariot, tattered cloak arrayed about it as its right arm stretched back and forth through the air in front of it like a sinuous snake. The arm was whip-like and segmented, the flesh peeling away from the bone. Its left leg, which up until that moment had been doing the same, snapped back into place, bony limbs disappearing beneath the chariot.

Its right leg lay on the ground between them, severed end still smoking where Soul's blade had sliced clean through it. In a circle around them, a handful of the Dullahan's spectral lieutenants lay motionless on the ground, the pale light of their souls hovering in the air above them.

Maka shifted her grip on her weapon with practiced ease, glancing down at the blade. Soul's face was reflected in the steel, looking back at her, his own expression grim. She didn't need to ask him if he was alright anymore, if he was ready to continue on. They knew each other well enough that she could read him as well as she knew herself. Maka raised her other hand to Soul's handle, feeling his agreement written into the steel as she settled her weight, widening her stance. Feeling his soul reach for hers, a familiar power coursing through them both as their souls enveloped each other.

Light surrounded her, bright and intensely familiar. In her hand, Soul's scythe blade shifted, settling into the form of Genie Hunter. She felt her partner's wavelength pulse around her as she eyed Dullahan down, as she bent her knees into a crouch, as she prepared to end this battle with one blow.

She leaped forward, feeling that power build up, hearing herself let out a small shout of defiance as she raised the scythe over her head, as she prepared to bring it down.

In the last moment before she released the blast, something changed.

Maka landed on the ground between herself and the Dullahan as she felt it, a tremor that seemed to pass through the moon itself. In the shadows, a consciousness seemed to awaken, a great eye fixing on her. Something tightened in her stomach, her breath catching in her throat. That awareness burned into her mind, leaving an oily, greasy feel in its wake, leaving a metallic taste in the back of her throat.

The world around her faded, lost in shadow. Her heart stopped.

In the darkness, red eyes opened, gleaming in the shadows.

And then she was standing on the moon again, a few feet from the Morrigan's soldier, and the black blood was rising up around her. It rose up in torrents, washing over the souls of the spirits that she had defeated, consuming them whole. Maka tightened her grip on Soul as the black blood swirled around her, as that wavelength pressed against her mind, her eyes widening, the color draining from her face.

Her breaths were coming faster and faster. Her pulse…

" _Oi, Maka!"_ Soul said, spinning around to face her. " _Keep it together!"_

Her partner's words cut through the fear, bringing her back to her senses. She exhaled slowly, relaxing her grip on Soul, forcing her hands to move farther apart. Maka let her weight settle, let her breathing even out as the darkness rose around her, boxing her in.

She turned slowly, unhurried, and faced Dullahan.

The black blood had swirled around the creature as it threw its head back, ecstasy written on its features. There was whispering in the tide of blood, an endless chorus of murmurs that Maka couldn't hear, that set her teeth on edge and raised the hair on the back of her neck. The darkness had formed a dome around them, separating her from the others, leaving her alone with Dullahan.

As the black blood filtered into the creature, its soul began to expand, its wavelength strengthening. The severed leg in front of her dissolved, smoke rising from its surface as it disintegrated. A new leg sprouted from the stump of the Dullahan's leg, black blood flowing over its limbs like armor. She braced herself as the Dullahan's arm moved, whip-like, as it lashed through the air and struck at her torso.

The blow hit her with all the force of a bullet train.

She could hear laughter in the air as she was thrown back, as she slammed into the ground. There was a presence in the shadows around her, one that she remembered, one that she would never forget.

Asura.

Maka grit her teeth in defiance, getting shakily to her feet. She jumped out of the way as the Dullahan's arm came crashing through, the limb tearing a furrow in the earth as she charged at it, letting out a shout of fury. Soul's blade moved through the air, angled towards the Dullahan's shoulder.

In the second before it hit, the Dullahan's leg kicked through the air, aimed towards her side. Maka felt Soul jerk in her hands, the weapon instinctively moving to protect her. The leg crashed into them both, and Maka grit her teeth against the impact, translated to her through Soul. Inside his soul space, her partner swore under his breath as the powerful blow struck him.

The steel of his shaft cracked, a chip flying off into the ether. Maka braced herself on the ground as she landed, the force behind the blow making her slide a few feet to the left. She glanced down at Soul, her eyes wide.

"Soul!" she said.

" _I'm okay,"_ said Soul, from his soul space, clutching at his shoulder. His eyes were fixed entirely on their opponent. " _Be careful, Maka. He hits a lot harder now."_

Maka opened her mouth to tell Soul that she knew. She was cut off as the Dullahan's arm snaked around her back, grabbing her around the collar. Her half-formed words broke off in a shout as it yanked her into the air, slamming her into the ground like a ragdoll. Soul slipped out of her hands as she hit the earth hard enough to form a crater, the monster stretching out a leg to kick the scythe away from her. She scrambled to flip over, the Dullahan's hand still on the back of her coat, her arm extended as the Dullahan's foot landed on Soul's blade, pinning him to the ground.

" _Soul!"_ she shouted, green eyes wide.

She saw Soul reflected in the scythe's blade, saw him stretch out his hand towards her, his eyes wide with the same worry that must have been on her face. Underneath the Dullahan's arm, its severed head opened its mouth, letting out a loud, gruesome laugh. The hand on the back of her coat snaked up to her neck, tightening, slamming her down onto the ground.

Shadows tore themselves away from the Dullahan's tattered cloak, shadows that formed themselves into spears of black blood. They rose into the air, adjusting their positions for one awful heartbeat before shooting down towards the two of them. Maka slid her arms underneath her and fought with all of her might to get up, to throw off the arm holding her down, to go to Soul.

She thought of Cori and Annie and Rei. Thought of everything she had ever said to them, everything that she had ever wanted to say. Thought of everything she would never say if she couldn't _move dammit—_

The spears reached Soul first, and that was almost worse. They rushed towards him, death raining down from above, angling towards his metal surface. She saw his eyes widen as he saw the spears coming, saw his eyes move from them to hers, saw the sudden resignation on his face. She forced her head up off the ground and opened her mouth, gathering up all the breath in her lungs for one last defiant cry, her partner's name tearing itself from her throat.

" _SOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUL!"_

Something small tore itself out of the shadows, rushing towards Soul. A blade sliced through the spears that rushed towards him, slicing through the Dullahan's leg in the process. The spears landed uselessly on the ground around him as Soul transformed back into human form, sprawled out on the ground with one arm stretched out towards her. She felt a weight lift itself off of her neck as the streak angled itself towards her, slicing through the Dullahan's arm.

And then someone was standing in front of her, between her and the spears.

Maka stared. The figure was small, no taller than a child, dressed in a knee-length black dress with a tattered hem. Her heart leaped into her throat, her eyes widening. Annie—except it was not. The child looked like her daughter in every respect, but where Annie had bright green eyes the same color as Maka's own, this child's eyes were a dark grayish blue. Where Annie had Soul's thick white hair, this child had long pink hair, flaring out behind her. Black blood streamed in a halo around her, coming from a small cut just above her right wrist.


	50. Lunacy Pt. 4, Rising Stars and Full Circles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's been some confusion on how many chapters are left, so I wanted to point out that there will be 52 chapters total, meaning 50 chapters, one prologue, and one epilogue. There's still one more to go after this and then an epilogue. And just a heads up, I've already started writing the final chapter, and it's already shaping up to be the longest chapter so far. It's twice as long as a standard chapter, so might take twice as long to be posted. Thanks for all your support so far!

**CHAPTER FORTY-NINE**

**Lunacy Pt. 4, Rising Stars and Full Circles**

* * *

"Morgan!" Cassie said, staring at her meister in complete shock, the link between her soul and the others faltering. Rei stared at Morgan as well, his mouth hanging open, his grip on the handle of Ayame's scythe form momentarily loosening. Morgan took their scrutiny in stride, her eyes moving over each of them in turn, lingering on Vayne's reflection in the blade in Clark's hands before settling on Rei.

"What are we just standing around here for?" she asked. "Are we fighting a battle or not?" Her free hand stretched out, reaching towards her partner. "Cassie."

Cassie hesitated for only a brief moment before transforming in a flash of light. The light wrapped around Morgan like a stream, Cassie's form shifting into a pocket-sized version of her usual Grimoire. The book hang around Morgan's waist from a slender silver chain, leaving her hands free for the sword.

Rei felt Morgan's soul reach out, searching, and he reached for her in turn, her wavelength tangling around his and Clark's. Their Resonance flared into life between the three of them, what had once been lopsided and uneven becoming suddenly complete. There was a clear note like the sound of a ringing bell, and their souls swelled, six wavelengths weaving together into one single entity.

In that instant, Rei was as aware of Clark and Morgan as he was of himself, so he was aware when they moved, Clark darting past him on the right and Morgan on the left as they moved to cut the army of black blood soldiers down. Rei moved only a half-second behind, he and Ayame cutting a swathe of destruction across the center of the attackers' formation.

Their souls moved with each other, intertwining in perfect harmony. To his left, he saw a flash of light from Excalibur as Morgan moved through the lines, the Holy Sword cutting through the air in wide arcs as Cassie's wavelength pulsed in the background, keeping time and maintaining the rhythm of the fight. To his right, Clark and Vayne were a storm of steel, black blood flying as Clark moved relentlessly forward. And in front of him, within him, there was Ayame, her soul a bright burning flame, a warmth in the center of his chest.

He could feel everything about them, all the little inconsistencies that made them different from each other. He could feel Vayne's excitement and surprise at seeing Morgan again, could feel Cassie's happiness mixed with her curiosity and concern. He could feel Clark's worry for his mother, the jagged hints of battle madness beginning to encroach on his soul with each enemy he cut down, and he could feel the intense wildness of Morgan's witch soul, drunk on rebellion and adrenaline and magic and power. He could feel Ayame's bravery and hidden fears and desire to prove herself and could even feel, through his connection to the others, his own insecurity and faltering confidence as their leader. Ordinarily, these flaws were things that sought to divide them, but they only seemed to make them stronger, to strengthen the resonance between them as they fought together, Excalibur's light and the light of their souls cutting a path free of the darkness.

And then they were out of the battle and running together, running across a long stretch of bright yellow rock towards the airship, the black blood still rising toward them and pooling towards that terrifying presence near the crest of the moon, not far from where Clark's own mother had been fighting.

"What's going on?" Morgan asked as they ran, drawing up beside him. "What did I miss?"

Rei swallowed, feeling a dryness in the back of his throat as he looked up at that growing vortex of black blood. "Asura's awake," he said. "At least, that's what I've been able to figure out."

" _Shit_ ," Morgan swore, shifting her grip on Excalibur to her left hand and slicing through a creature that tried to attack her from that side.

Rei turned to stare at her, eyes wide in surprise. Behind him, he felt Clark stop and do the same, felt a surge of something from Vayne that could almost have been admiration. Morgan swiped the sword in a neat flourish through the air, flicking off the black blood that had coated it as her brows rose in irritation.

"Given the sort of week I've had," she said, "you have no right to comment on my choice of language, Rei Evans."

"I wasn't commenting," Rei said, blocking an attack with the flat of the scythe blade before whirling the scythe around the back of his hand and slicing straight through his attacker's neck.

"You were," Morgan said, tapping the side of her head with one finger. "You just weren't doing it out loud."

" _Is it just me,"_ Ayame asked, looking out at the horde attacking them from inside her soul space, " _or are there more of them now?"_

Morgan's frown deepened as she slashed out at the next incoming wave, then stepped aside a split second before Clark came through, bringing Vayne down over the stragglers. "There are," she said. "They're reacting to Excalibur, I suspect. Asura can't have failed to notice him."

"About that—," Rei began, brows arching as he looked back at the Holy Sword, at the Grimoire of Reality lying dormant around Morgan's waist. Morgan shifted her free hand to rest over Cassie's weapon form, her expression growing briefly pained.

"Temporary arrangement," she said. "Very temporary."

"Heads up," Clark said from behind them, his voice sounding rougher than it had been a moment ago. "More incoming."

Rei looked up at Clark's words, his eyes narrowing as he noticed the group of dark figures shambling towards them, rising up from the landscape all around them. He sank down into a crouch, shifting his grip on Ayame's shaft. The creatures shuffled closer, surrounding them.

And then the lights went out.

Rei felt more than heard Vayne's gasp of surprise, Clark's sudden indrawn breath. He looked around, eyes widening, but he couldn't see Excalibur's light, couldn't sense Morgan anywhere inside this new enclosed space they were in. This was Asura's answer then, Rei thought, trying to control the pounding in his heart. Isolate Morgan, isolate Excalibur, and destroy them all in the dark. He felt his mouth go dry as fear surrounded him, the fears of his companions feeding into his own. His grip on Ayame's shaft went slack then tightened again, fingers shifting nervously as he tried to control his breath.

" _You've got this, Rei,"_ Ayame said, her voice soft and self-assured as she stared out into the darkness.

One breath and then another. Inhale. Exhale. Slowly, he began to calm. Rei nodded.

"I know."

He closed his eyes, shutting out the darkness, then unfolded his Soul Perception around him. The waves of his awareness spread out, bouncing off of the barrier's walls, returning to him. Six—no, seven enemies, all surrounding them. Clark and Vayne standing uncertain near the far side of their enclosure, blinded and confused in the dark. He reached out for them through their resonance, his wavelength moving over their frightened souls.

"Don't move," he whispered, muttering the words under his breath, sending his intention to them across the bond of their souls.

He didn't have time to see whether or not they understood.

" _You know what to do?"_ Ayame asked, in that last moment of stillness before the storm.

Rei nodded.

When their enemies rushed at him, he _moved_.

As the first of their opponents rushed towards him, Rei ducked out of the way, avoiding the creature's outstretched arm. He flipped backward, out of the way of a second attack, and landed neatly on the ground, running to the edge of the barrier to gain some distance. As he ran, his breathing slowed. He felt his heartbeat start to slow down, a calm settling over him, his soul sinking into the familiarity of Ayame's presence.

" _Assassin's Rule # 1,"_ Ayame said, her voice so soft that only Rei could hear her. " _Silence. Dissolve into the darkness and erase your breath. Wait for an opening to attack your target…"_

The blade separated from the shaft without a sound, the two halves linked by the chain. The blade shot off into the distance, as Rei ran soundlessly along the edge of the path, Asura's minions turning their heads in confusion as they tried to track his presence. He wrapped the darkness around him like a cloak, moving through the enemies like a gust of cold wind.

" _Assassin's Rule # 2,"_ Ayame said, and this time he took up the recitation with her, following along with the words in his mind. " _Transpositional thinking. Analyze the target in order to predict his thoughts and movements…"_

He saw the enemies as points of flame in his mind, written on the inside of his consciousness. He saw the paths they would take like trails of smoke, an endless matrix of possibilities.

The scythe blade moved back and forth through the empty spaces between enemies, manipulated by the most subtle shifts of Rei's grip on the shaft. As it moved, the chain trailed along behind it, crisscrossing through the air in the small space and avoiding Clark and Vayne, who were standing still where Rei had left them.

" _Assassin's Rule # 3,"_ Ayame said, and Rei came to a stop. " _Take out the target before the target notices your presence."_

He raised the handle high over his head and pressed against it with his thumb, signaling Ayame.

The chain retracted sharply, the blade slicing backwards through the air as it snapped back towards his hand. As it moved, it sliced clean through the enemies in its path. Rei sensed them as they fell, in the almost-sight of his Soul Perception. One, two, three. Four. Five. Six.

Seven.

Black blood splattered around him as the blade snapped back into place, the enemies around them falling to the ground. Rei exhaled, his breath sounding uncommonly loud in the stillness around him as he started breathing again.

And then Excalibur's blade was slicing through the barrier that separated him from Morgan, light shining over them again. He opened his eyes and looked back over his shoulder at Clark and Vayne, who looked pale but unharmed, then turned to face Morgan. Her expression was grim, black blood flecked across her pale skin and the sleeve of her dress. She had an arm wrapped around her middle like she was injured, but as he moved, she started running again, falling into step beside him.

"What are we doing?" Morgan asked.

Rei didn't know. He looked around quickly, but there was no sign of any of the DWMA's combatants. Nothing but domes of black blood and the airship in the distance, almost too far to reach. For a moment he felt a wave of helplessness—had they really come this far only to die here?—but before he could truly panic, something else changed.

The sky split open, dozens of portals opening up in the air all around the moon.

And through them, through his Soul Perception, Rei felt something he never thought he would be glad to feel.

Hundreds of Witch's Souls, all pouring in at once.

* * *

The scream became a physical thing, slicing through Dullahan and the barrier that enclosed them. Light shone down through the gaps in the barrier as the scream faded, a feeble, faint light, as though Asura's presence was muting out even the sun. Maka looked up, peering through the faint sunlight as the child with the sword turned towards her.

There was something in the child's face she recognized, a shy, almost apologetic look in her eyes. Maka watched as the child lowered the sword in her hand, as the child's lips quirked up in a small, tentative smile. Then, she understood.

"Crona?" she asked, staring at the child in disbelief.

Crona looked out at her from inside her daughter's face, and Maka looked at them through the filter of her Soul Perception. Crona and Ragnarok's souls were there, both of them, entwined in the same sort of symbiosis that Maka had observed in them before, but Annie's soul was there too. It was faint, obscured by both of theirs, but Maka could still feel the traces of her wavelength, subdued like Rachel's had been by Medusa's but still present.

"Hello, Maka," Crona said, and the voice that spoke was her daughter's voice.

Maka slid her arms and knees under herself, pushing herself up to her feet. Her body felt bruised and battered where she had been thrown to the ground, but she had had worse before. She would live. Across from her, she saw Soul starting to stand as well, staring at Crona with the same expression of disbelief that she knew she was wearing on her own face.

"What have you done with Annie?" Maka asked.

"She's alright," said Crona— _Crona!_ Maka still couldn't believe it. "I could let her out, but she's…sleeping, right now. It's better for her this way. She was very brave."

Soul approached Crona almost tentatively, stopping a few feet away from her—him? _her_. He looked Crona up and down, his hands in the pockets of his battered suit jacket. Soul didn't have her Soul Perception, but Maka understood his confusion. The being in front of her was Crona—there was no doubt about that—but it was Annie too.

"Since when could you do that?" he asked, finally.

"I learned," Crona-in-Annie said, her expression growing far off. She didn't, Maka noticed, meet Soul's eyes. The hand that wasn't holding on to Ragnarok was folded across her middle, gripping her other arm by the elbow. "I had a lot of time to learn things, when I _could_ learn things…I don't have a body right now, you know."

"But Annie's okay in—in there," said Soul. "She's not…" He made a vague gesture, grasping for the word.

"Annie-chan's sleeping," Crona said. "But she's okay. I didn't—I didn't hurt her." She looked up at Maka, her expression brightening slightly as she spoke. "I'm not going to hurt you two either. I don't think I _could_ hurt you in this body. Annie-chan…loves…you both very much. It's—it's _warm."_ She placed her hand over Annie's chest, lowering her eyes to the ground, but there was something in them that Maka noticed. Sadness, and a little bit of wonder. Maka noted the way Crona had said the word 'love', like she—like he was unfamiliar with the concept.

"You didn't hurt her," Crona said, continuing on. "She never had to be…afraid, when she was with you. You never left her alone in the dark. She had a brother and a sister and a father and a mother who loved her, and because of that, all her memories are so…so warm." Crona looked up at Maka, meeting her eyes. She smiled, another shy, tentative smile.

Before Maka could respond, the sword in Crona's hand transformed, becoming the more familiar figure of Ragnarok. Ragnarok loomed over Crona-in-Annie, smaller in this state, arms flailing.

"Don't just stand there and talk, you idiot!" Ragnarok said, pounding on Crona's head. "The Kishin's about to wake up! You want to be here when the Kishin wakes up?"

"I'm sorry," Crona moaned, raising her hands up to shield her head. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"Ragnarok!" said Maka, voice sharp with alarm. " _Please_ stop hurting my daughter's body!"

Surprisingly, Ragnarok stopped, drawing himself tall and looking over his shoulders at her. Maka met the Demon Sword's gaze, her eyes narrowing in determination. Ragnarok stared at her for a few seconds, quivering under the force of that stare, before turning away, folding his arms and tilting his chin up.

"Hmph," he said. "Whatever."

"Ragnarok's right…" Crona mumbled, slowly removing her arms from the top of Annie's head. "We need to leave before the Kishin wakes. My body…and Brew…won't hold him for long."

"That's fine and all," said Soul, looking around. "But—uh—I don't think they're going to let us leave."

Maka looked. The black blood around them had risen up again, a looming army. Her eyes narrowed, and she extended a hand towards Soul, who transformed without a word, still watching Crona-in-Annie with a look of uncertainty. Crona took a step back to stand beside her, holding her sword arm out to the side. Maka watched the small form with some concern.

"Are you going to be okay?" Maka asked. "Can you fight like that?"

"I'll be okay, I think," said Crona, looking up at her. "Annie-chan's courage is stronger than mine. And she wants to protect you, more than anything." She smiled and for a second, Maka saw Annie instead of Crona, Annie's face, Annie's smile. Then the smile faded, and Crona's eyes narrowed, her small body sinking into a crouch. " _Ragnarok,"_ she said.

A shiver coursed through Ragnarok at the words, one that Maka saw out of the corner of her eye. The Demon Sword unfolded his arms, looking over his shoulder at Crona. "Tch," he said. "Where the hell did this confidence come from, you little brat?"

Ragnarok dissolved, becoming a trail of black blood. It snaked down Crona's arm, twisting around it. The black sword formed in Annie's small hand, a streak of white down the center of it.

Annie's fingers closed around the sword, and Crona streaked forward towards the monsters, pink hair streaming behind her.

* * *

The black blood spread over the area, a swirling vortex in the air over their heads and across the stones beneath them. Kid leaped away as the blood started crashing down on top of him, Black Star keeping pace with him easily as they dodged rope-like whips of black blood. Kid looked over his shoulder at the warrior god as he leaped, a scowl on his face.

"Are you insane?!" Kid asked. "I told you not to attack her, Black Star! What were you thinking?"

Black Star snorted in derision, pushing off of the ground and launching himself into the air.

"You were gonna let her _win_."

Kid scowled, gesturing with one of his pistols at the swirling mass of black blood behind them, at the wavelength that was already spreading through the area, the awareness that was coming back to life. "I didn't want _this_ to happen!" he said. "I didn't want to choose _this_ for the world."

"I knew you didn't," said Black Star. "That's why I chose it for you." At Kid's incredulous look, he grinned, continuing on. "I said I was going to help you make the world you wanted. And if that means making the choices you can't, whatever. Come on—." Black Star skidded to a stop on the last stretch of clear ground on the island, grabbing Kid by the arm and drawing him to a stop beside him. "—you aren't seriously saying you'd rather have the Morrigan take over the world than _this."_

He gestured at the vortex behind them, at the mass of black blood, at their approaching enemy. Kid frowned, pulling his arm roughly out of Black Star's grasp.

"No," he admitted, fixing the sleeve of his suit jacket. "But I was trying to make the responsible decision."

"To hell with responsible decisions," said Black Star, shifting his stance. He pointed the blade of Tsubaki's Masamune form at the mass of black blood, waiting. "Let's finish this."

"I really should shoot you, you know," Kid said, leveling his pistols at the approaching form. In spite himself, however, he was smiling.

Black Star smiled back. "When this is over, you can try."

They didn't stay smiling for long.

Darkness rose up around them, the black blood swirling at their feet and separating them from each other. Tendrils of blood separated themselves from the gathering form, snaking towards them. Kid whirled, shooting at the tendrils that were closing in on him. The bullets tore through the blood with practiced efficiency, driving the tendrils back, but more of the viscous substance rose to fill in the holes that the bullets had left, the tendrils encircling him. He shot faster and faster, Liz and Patty's bullets filling the air, but for each tendril he shot down, two more took its place. One wrapped itself around his upper arm and he quickly jerked the arm away, droplets of blood spattering against the lesser black of his suit jacket. His cloak streamed behind him, ragged edges bleeding into the shadows.

"Black Star!" Kid yelled as he struggled to find the blue-haired man, the darkness closing in. He felt Black Star's wavelength flare from somewhere to his left, felt the warrior god fighting, but there was no answer.

And then that creeping wavelength filled him, like cold fingers seeping into his mind, grasping at his soul. He froze in his tracks, eyes wide, a voice filling his ears.

" _Hello, little brother…"_

" _Kid!"_ Liz shouted, her voice cutting through Asura's grip on his consciousness. Kid jerked back into wakefulness, his eyes narrowing as his soul reached for his weapons'. What was wrong with him? He wasn't the child he had been the first time he had faced Asura. He was a Shinigami in his own right, in his own power.

The white lines stretched across his hair began to glow, a bright light filling the space around him. The light drove the darkness back as his weapons began to glow and transform, the wind around him picking up. His eyes started to shine, piercing through Asura's darkness.

He raised the cannons that his weapons had become, pointing them at the heart of Asura's consciousness. He felt that presence recoil and felt too the multitude of souls that had become part of it, engrained in it. Familiar ones, souls that he recognized. Maka and Soul, Shelley, Micah. Crona. The children that had come to the moon with them. Angela. The souls on the airship. The Assassin. The Morrigan. Vajra.

So much waste. So much pain.

He let out a shout of defiance, letting the blast loose. The light tore through the air, the black blood parting in its path as it shot towards Asura. The blow struck at the center of what the Kishin was, at Asura's gathering power, and Kid felt his brother recoil, felt the black blood pull away from them at the force of the blow. It wasn't enough—it hadn't defeated him—but the pressure around him eased enough to let him see the sky, enough to let him find Black Star again, to hear the voices of the people around him. Enough to let him hear the shout that came from above.

"Kid!" Maka shouted, swooping down into a messy landing. The heels of her boots dragged across the ground as she practically tumbled off of Soul, her hand closed around the dress of a small figure. Kid looked, his eyes widening slightly in confusion. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought the figure had been Annie, but now that he was looking at her closely, he saw that her hair was pink, her eyes dark, her expression completely different. Saw that her wavelength wasn't Annie's—it was Crona's.

"Maka, what—?" Kid began.

"No time to explain!" Maka said. "Sound the retreat! We need to get our people onto the airship!"

"Retreat?" Kid repeated, flustered. "But—." He looked back at Asura, at the dent he had placed in the presence.

"Asura's still trying to overcome Brew," the child at Maka's side said, and though the voice was more sure of itself than Kid remembered, it was definitely Crona's. The child didn't look at any of them as she spoke, keeping her eyes straight ahead of her and fists clenched at her side, as though turning to look at any of them would somehow weaken her resolve. "There's just enough power in it to hold him back for a little while, but it won't last. When he awakens, he'll close the area around the moon. And absorb the souls of anyone left behind."

"We can come up with a battle plan from the airship, but we need to get out of here!" Maka said. Her eyes were wide with a sudden desperation, and Kid caught what she wasn't saying—what she _wanted_ to say but couldn't because she thought it would be too selfish of her.

_My son is on the moon._

"Black Star!" Kid barked, looking over his shoulder for the ninja. Black Star had his back towards the proceedings, his eyes on the growing form of Asura and his hands on Masamune. He looked, for a moment, like a hound pulling at the leash, but he looked over his shoulder at Kid's shout. "Go make yourself useful and get the kids off the moon!" Without waiting for a response, he pressed his hand to his ear, activating the earpiece embedded in there. "Sound the retreat," he ordered. "All forces return to the airship and await further orders." He looked back at Maka, inclining his head towards Crona-in-Annie.

"Do you trust him?" Kid asked, meeting her eyes.

Maka's own green eyes were narrowed in determination. "I do," she said.

"Then let's get out of here," Kid said, although he kept his soul in resonance with Liz and Patty's, his shinigami power arrayed around him like an aura. "Get—."

He broke off suddenly, his eyes widening as he looked skyward. A thousand portals had opened up in the sky, a small army of souls pouring through them. Witch's souls. Spells started flying almost immediately, driving back the black blood and clearing the path for their retreat. He sensed Maba's soul somewhere in the mix, a bright powerful beacon, but he barely had any time to wonder at this new development before Kim was streaking past him, Jackie's lantern form trailing fire behind her.

"Kid, I want a raise!" Kim shouted, streaking past him before rising up into the throng of witches, her own healing magic keeping the black blood from touching her. Kid grinned in spite of himself.

"File a request!" he shouted back, looking over his shoulder at Maka. He nodded at her, inclining his head towards the airship.

* * *

Darkness snaked down the length of Micah's arm, black tendrils digging into his skin. Shelley took the opportunity to charge, ignoring her partner's cries from behind the veil of the tornado. She stepped in towards him, swiping her scalpel hand up towards Micah's face in one quick motion. He jerked his head back, his eyes widening as they focused on her, and as he stepped back, the tips of her scalpels sliced through the tendrils, cutting through them without breaking skin.

The dark power flooding into Micah from the Death card fizzled, but didn't fade away completely, the card still glowing in Micah's hand as he lowered his arm, his red eyes fixing on her.

"What are you doing?" Micah asked, his lip curling into a snarl.

"What I should have done," Shelley said. "What I should have done two years ago. When I found you with Luna."

A look of pain crossed Micah's face at the mention of Luna's name, if only for a brief moment. Shelley glared at him as she stepped forward, stabbing her fingers at his chest. He felt pain? Good. He _should_ feel pain for what he had done. She would never forget that day. Never.

" _Micah?" Shelley called, stepping into the small, darkened home that the two of them shared together. "Micah, are you there? Luna?"_

_There was no answer. Shelley frowned, tightening her grip on the armful of books currently clutched close to her chest. She had been gone for two days, a mission with Angela to the Witch Assembly, but the trip had been worth it in the end. The Assembly's librarian had allowed her to take some of the books from the shelves, and she'd brought a handful back for Micah, remembering how excited he had been to work on his new project. She wasn't supposed to be back for another day or so, but the Assembly was in session, and Angela had sent her home._

_It was meant to be a surprise._

" _Micah?" she called again, feeling a chill creep down her spine at the dead silence that greeted her. "Luna? Luna, are you here?"_

_No response. Shelley drew in a deep breath and activated her Soul Perception, searching the house. There was no sign of Luna anywhere, but her boyfriend's Soul Response was present, coming from the basement. She relaxed at the feel of it, letting out the breath she had been holding._

_Working. Of course. When Micah was working on a project, she could have burned the house down and he wouldn't have noticed. She felt a small smile tug at her lips as she made her way towards the stairs, heading down into the basement. Dimly, she wondered where Luna was. The rapier didn't live with Micah anymore, not since Shelley had moved in, but she tended to come over to keep her meister company when Shelley was off on extended missions with Angela. Out running errands, she supposed. Or maybe she was taking some rare time for herself. Even someone like Luna needed to be alone occasionally._

_The door to the study was half open. Shelley walked up to it, the smile still on her face as she nudged it open with her hip. She opened her mouth, about to say "Surprise!"_

_The word died in her throat, the books in her arms falling to the ground._

_It took her a while to understand what she was seeing. When understanding came, it came in bits and pieces, her medical training putting the scene together for her before her heart could even begin to understand it._

_The first thing she saw was Luna. The weapon, the girl who had never hurt anyone in her life unless she was being ordered to do it, who had never made a real enemy, was lying on the ground, her red hair arrayed around her, gray eyes fixed sightlessly on the ceiling. Her mouth was open, face frozen in an expression of terror. Her skin was as pale as death, blue veins standing out starkly against the backdrop of white._

_And Micah was kneeling beside her, an unfamiliar card in one hand, a glowing red jewel at his throat. His other hand was wreathed in shadow. He raised his head towards the door, his eyes wide, grief all over his features. His eyes were red, tears streaking down his cheeks. His hair looked messy, as if he had been tugging at it in frustration. He looked desperate, lost. Shelley looked around, desperately trying to take her eyes off the sight, to find something else in this room to ground herself in, but as she did, she only noticed one fact._

_There was no sign of Luna's soul anywhere._

" _Shell—," Micah began, his voice breaking. "Shell, I can explain—."_

_She didn't give him the chance. She turned instead, running back up the stairs. He chased after her, begging her to listen to him, but she didn't do it. She locked herself in the bedroom and called the DWMA._

_They came, a veritable army of DWMA operatives. She heard Micah's broken sobs from the other side of the bedroom door, heard the moment that he got up to leave, but she couldn't bring herself to care. By the time the DWMA agents burst into the house to find her seated against the farthest wall of the bedroom from the door, her knees pulled up close to her chest, he was long gone._

_She didn't cry. She kept it together long enough to give her statement, to throw some things into a bag and leave. She didn't consciously think about going home, but her feet took her to the Patchwork Lab anyway. She had brought clothes, but had forgotten to put her shoes back on, and the rough stones of the city scraped her feet. She couldn't have cared less. She felt numb, like the part of her that could feel things had withdrawn so deep into her skin that only the cold and the numbness remained. It was, Shelley mused, the first time she had ever felt anything close to madness._

_It was only when she was sitting on the couch with her mother holding her hands that Shelley allowed herself to cry._

Micah snarled at her, the tendrils snaking from the card down his arm again. As she stabbed at him, he stepped aside, grabbing at her wrist. Cold washed through her at the contact, a biting cold so sudden that she gasped. Shelley twisted her wrist out of his hold, the wind slamming into him and tossing him back at a flick of her fingers. As he stumbled back, she looked down at her hand, at the place where Micah had touched her. The skin around her wrist was starkly pale. The spot where he touched her felt like ice, like a shard of ice that had embedded itself in her blood.

Unbidden, her mind called up memories of Luna's corpse, her medic's mind showing her her friend's body again, in excruciating detail. There had been bruises around Luna's neck. Fingers. The skin around her neck had been paler than the rest of her.

She remembered the autopsy report.

_Cause of death: Asphyxiation, freezing._

It had always been a mystery to her. She knew that Micah had killed Luna, everyone knew that, but she hadn't known how. Now, she did.

"That's what you used," she said, looking up at Micah, searching him, even now, for any sign of the boy she used to love, the man that boy had become. "That's how you killed her. You used that card on Luna."

"I didn't _want_ to," Micah said, gritting the words out like they were part of a familiar argument that he didn't want to go through again. "If you had just listened to me—."

"What could you have said, Micah?" Shelley asked. "What could you possibly have said that would make any difference?! She found you. She was going to report you. Death, Micah, you were doing experiments on _souls_! _Innocent_ souls. Anyone would have reported you. _I would have reported you_. She was _doing her job_ , because Luna Joyeuse didn't know how to do anything else but her job—her _duty_." There were tears in her eyes now, but she ignored them, blinking them away as she stared at him. "But she loved you," Shelley said, her voice quavering in spite of all her efforts to keep it steady. "Didn't you see that? Couldn't you understand that? You were her partner for longer than we were ever together, Micah. She loved you and trusted you more than anything, and you _killed_ her."

_I loved you and trusted you more than anything, and you betrayed me._

The words froze in her throat. She didn't say them, couldn't say them, even now. Couldn't admit them to herself.

"Do you think I don't know that?!" Micah asked, sounding desperate. There were tears in his eyes too, and she tried very hard not to see them. "Do you think I don't realize what I did? Do you think I don't live with that guilt every day? I lo— _loved_ her too. She was my partner too. If I could do it all over again, Shelley, I would, but she was going to ruin everything. Sacrifices needed to be made."

" _Sacrifices?"_ Shelley asked. "Sacrifices for _what_? For your idiotic crusade against Shinigami? You really think the Morrigan would have been _better_?"

"You don't understand!" Micah said. "You never did!"

"Enlighten me, then," Shelley said, feeling her breath catch. "Explain it to me, because I'm having trouble understanding _this_!" She gestured at the gathering darkness through the curtain of her whirlwind, her eyes still on him.

"I asked the questions," Micah said. "I couldn't live with the answers. I wanted to see inside of people's hearts, and I hated what I found there. Even inside of mine. Order is a joke. It doesn't exist. The heart of humanity is chaos and disorder. It's madness. If Order doesn't exist, then why do we focus on it? Why do we throw away our lives for it? Why not succumb to fear? What does one master matter over another?"

"You'd rather we started murdering each other in the streets? Started consuming souls and creating Kishins left and right?"

"I'd rather we had the _choice_!" Micah said. "Can you imagine what it would be like, _not_ having to serve the DWMA? Not having to choose between having our abilities stifled so that we can live our lives like all the ordinary, _boring_ people around us or serving a master we never had the chance to choose? Can you even comprehend a future like that, or are you still too narrow-minded to even—."

Shelley let out a shout of frustration, charging at him. " _Enough_!" she said, slashing at his face with her bladed fingers. "I've heard enough!"

Micah ducked beneath the blow, kicking at her torso. The blow staggered her, sending her stumbling back, but she quickly recovered, charging at him again. His face was grim, his eyes narrowed at her as she rushed at him.

"Have it your way, then," he said, the Death card glowing as shadows wrapped around his free hand.

* * *

The black blood battered the edges of the swirling tornado, filling the air with an oily mist that made her nose and throat burn. Inside the vortex, the two combatants continued fighting, either not noticing or not caring about the presence rising up around them, about the retreat signal that even now buzzed in Angela's ear, about the witches filling the sky that surrounded them. Angela watched them with desperation, her eyes wide as she leaned as close as she could to the winds. Her throat felt hoarse from shouting at them, but they barely seemed to hear her.

"Shelley!" she yelled. "Stop! Micah!"

They ignored her, clashing together and coming apart again. She grit her teeth, tears filling her eyes as she tried to press forward, the wind lifting her off of her feet and shoving her back again.

"An!"

She looked up at the sound of the shout, seeing Mifune hanging in the air over her head, suspended in a tangle of floating blades. He had one hand closed around a sword hilt to protect himself, the other extended towards her.

"Angela, come with me!" he said, and she realized then that the blood had risen up around them, forming the beginnings of a sphere around the perimeter of the moon. Her eyes widened and she looked back over her shoulder, at Shelley and Micah, at the vortex that surrounded them. Mifune inched closer, his voice becoming sharper, more insistent. "Angela!"

"I—I can't!" she said, shaking her head. "I can't leave them! Shelley! Micah!"

The two of them ignored her, engrossed in their own private battle, moving back and forth across the enclosure.

"There's no time!" Mifune said. " _Angela!"_

She shook her head again, helpless. Hot tears stung her eyes, trickling down her cheeks. "I can't—," she said. "Mifune, I can't…"

"You can't help them," Mifune said. "You'll only die." She heard the plea in his voice, heard it because she knew him, because he had raised her and she loved him.

_I can't watch you die,_ his voice seemed to say, _Please don't make me watch you die._

Still she wavered, her eyes tracking back towards Shelley and Micah, towards the black blood that was even now encroaching on them, filtering into the tornado that surrounded them so that it was getting hard to see them through the gale. She hesitated, inching her body towards them.

" _ **An!"**_

Angela sucked in a sharp breath and turned, her fingers closing around Mifune's outstretched hand. It had been an instinctive movement, but he lifted her up off the ground before she could stop to think, his free arm wrapping itself around her as the swords shifted to accommodate her, her feet finding purchase on the spines of the blades. The two of them shot towards the airship, slipping through one of the dwindling gaps in Asura's wall. She could feel the black blood reaching out for them, trying to ensnare them, but Mifune was faster than that, stronger than that.

She could only watch in horror as the black blood closed behind them, as her partner vanished from sight.

* * *

With both Rei and Morgan able to fly, carrying Clark and Vayne back to the airship was easy, and with Ayame's father holding Asura's black blood at bay, the flight was even smooth. The meister hung suspended between them, with Rei holding one of his arms and Morgan holding onto the other. He held Vayne's weapon form in one hand, dangerously near both him and Morgan, but Rei wasn't worried about Vayne accidentally cutting them. They weren't children anymore, and Vayne had a lot more control than he once had. He would never hurt either Rei or Morgan. Not on purpose.

The deck was chaos, but the crowd moved aside as they approached, clearing a landing path. When they set him down on the airship's rolling deck, Clark got quietly to his feet, letting Vayne transform back into his human form. He stumbled over to the ship's railing without a word, hazel eyes dark and haunted from behind his glasses. Rei watched him go, knowing what he was thinking. He was thinking of Elaine, of the dome of black blood at the crest of the moon, of the mother he had left behind.

He rubbed at his sore arms, feeling Ayame transform and stand beside him, her warmth a soothing presence at his side. She didn't reach for him, but she didn't have to. He could feel her there, the lingering traces of their resonance making it so that he was more aware of her presence than he might otherwise have been. He watched Clark out of the corner of his eye, wanting to help him but not knowing what to say. He was too tired, too exhausted to think of anything but the next step, and he hated himself for it. Vayne walked up to him, laying a comforting hand on his partner's shoulder, and Rei left the weapon to it, turning away.

The arrival of Shinigami drew all of their attention. A space on the deck cleared automatically as the reaper landed on it, accompanied by his parents and—Rei's eyes widened as he noticed her—Annie. Or rather, someone who looked very much like Annie, but wasn't. He looked at the girl through the lens of his Soul Perception, his eyes widening as he sensed the wavelength coming off of her. It wasn't his sister's wavelength, not entirely, but it was a wavelength he recognized, one from the dream he had had last night, before setting foot on this airship. As if noticing his scrutiny, the girl's head turned, her eyes meeting his.

He shivered and looked away, only to look back when he felt his mother's eyes on him. Maka held his gaze, concern and relief all over her features, and he might have gone to her if Shinigami hadn't started speaking, his tone laced with command.

"Everyone still able to fight, report to the bridge," he said. "Liz, I need a status report from Death City. Patty, find the Old Witch and see if she'll meet with me. Angela—."

He froze suddenly, his eyes widening as he looked in Rei's direction. Or rather, not _at_ Rei, but past him. At Morgan and what she was holding.

"Why do you have that?" Shinigami asked. " _How_ did you get that?"

"My uncle—." Morgan began, but before she could finish, the sword in her hand transformed, becoming a—man? At least, that was what Rei thought it was, but if it was a man, it was the strangest looking man that he had ever seen. Excalibur—and Rei guessed it was Excalibur, leaped into the air and spun in a perfect pirouette, landing in front of Shinigami.

"Ah, if it isn't the son of my old acquaintance, Death the Kid," the little man said, extending his staff towards Shinigami, who gave the man a slightly startled look. "Did you come to listen to my recitation? My legend begins in the twelfth century. When I was younger, I worked as a stablehand on a farm on the American prairie. I worked with a family, a husband and a wife, and four daughters. The eldest, Mary, was beautiful, but my favorite was the second eldest—Laura. I—."

"Enough!" Shinigami said, cutting him off, all while Rei blinked in confusion. "Excalibur, _what_ are you doing here?"

To Rei's great surprise, Excalibur reached out with his staff, cracking Shinigami sharply on the head. "Fool!" Excalibur said. "Do not interrupt my recitation. As I was saying, when I arrived in San Francisco—."

"San Francisco?" Shinigami asked. "What happened to the prairie?"

" _Silence!"_ said Excalibur. "As I was saying, when I arrived in Venezuela—."

Rei might have kept listening, eyes widening with growing horror, had Morgan not placed a gentle hand on his arm, drawing him back into the crowd.

"They'll be at it for a while," she said, her voice soft in his ear. "Come on. Let's talk somewhere else."

* * *

The team came together just long enough for Morgan to pay her respects, before falling apart. Morgan couldn't blame them. They had had their moment of resonance, fighting as a single unit, but the moon and Fata Morgana had wounded all of them in one way or another, and in the stillness that stretched between this battle and the next, they pulled apart to lick their wounds before coming back together again. Rei and Ayame went to their families, and Clark and Vayne vanished into the crowd, leaving Morgan alone with Cassie.

She found her weapon standing near the prow of the ship, hands resting on the railing for balance, her eyes on the moon ahead. The witches had set up a perimeter around it, using Soul Protect to contain Asura's madness to the barrier the Kishin himself had placed around the moon, but Morgan knew that that wouldn't last for long. It was only a momentary respite, to give them time to regroup and prepare themselves for the final battle. Even now, the lights were on around the airship's command deck, all of their commanders trying to work out a strategy.

Shinigami and the Thompson sisters, the warrior god and his weapon, the sword god Mifune. The Death Scythe Soul Eater and his meister. Maba-sama and her right-hand witches. Kimial Diehl and Angela Leon. Excalibur, who had forced himself into the discussion despite his repeated assurances that he wasn't here for Asura, and the strange creature that wore Rei's sister's body and was called Crona. As soon as they came up with a battle plan, the rest of them would fight, maybe even die, but not yet.

Maybe not ever, Morgan thought, if the grimoire had her way. She saw the determined look in Cassie's eye, the way her fingertips gripped the railing tightly, and knew what she was thinking. Knew it almost as well as she knew herself.

"Value yourself more," Morgan said, drawing up beside her.

Cassie sucked in a breath, her eyes widening in surprise. When she realized who Morgan was, she relaxed, but her eyes were still wide with fear, her face pale. Morgan pretended that she hadn't noticed Cassie flinch away from the sudden intrusion, keeping her eyes on the moon.

"You scared me," Cassie said, as if that wasn't obvious.

"I'm sorry," Morgan said. "I didn't mean to sneak up on you."

"No, it's alright," said Cassie, looking back at the moon. "I was just…lost in thought."

Morgan didn't doubt it. The silence stretched on between them, broken only by the occasional snap of magic from the witches that hovered in the perimeter around the moon, keeping Asura's madness contained. When Cassie spoke, her voice was soft, contemplative, as though she was barely even here.

"I could stop this, you know…" Cassie said. "All of this. I could shift us to another reality entirely. One where Asura was defeated the first time, maybe, or one where he never existed in the first place. I have that power. I could save us all so much pain."

"Are any of us alive in those realities?" Morgan asked. "Any of us at all?"

Cassie flushed pink, lowering her eyes to the railing, to the earth far below them. "Some of us," she said. "Not all of us. And those that are are…different. Changed. Those worlds are…entirely different from the ones we know."

Morgan didn't pry. She had heard about those other realities before, from idle conversations with Cassie, had heard about worlds where the accords had never happened, where Asura's quick defeat had made it so that the present Shinigami had never had to form a truce with Maba. And there were other realities, stranger ones. Ones even farther away from their own, where the previous Shinigami had never created Asura in the first place, where the DWMA didn't exist, where the Shinigami known as Death the Kid had never had a reason to be born. Those worlds were strange and interesting, but they were hardly her concern. She had only enough time to worry about their present reality, and about the partner she loved.

"It would kill you," she said, her voice soft. "You said it yourself."

"But wouldn't that be better?" Cassie asked, taking in a slow, trembling breath. "What's my life against the lives of all these others, all these people? We could go to a better world. A happier one."

Morgan studied the moon, shaking her head. "If it isn't Asura, there will be other threats," she said. "Other Kishins, other evils. I doubt there's a reality where every single one of us is happier than we would be now, if we even exist at all. And if it's all the same to you, I'd rather focus on fixing _this_ reality." She eyed her partner sidelong, placing her own hand on the railing beside Cassie's. " _With_ you."

"Morgan—," Cassie began, her eyes filling with tears.

"Value yourself more," Morgan said. "We'll get through this together."

Cassie drew in a deep breath, her hands squeezing the railing tightly. Then she sank down into herself, nodding.

* * *

Soul was standing with his back to the bridge's glass windows, casually swiping through messages on his phone. The look of boredom and slight frustration on his face made it look almost as though he were sending out invitations to a party that was definitely not his idea, instead of relaying orders to DWMA agents both in the air with them and on the ground. If it hadn't been for the fact that they were standing on an airship, just minutes away from launching the greatest battle in history, Rei might almost have believed it.

"So, what's the plan?" Rei asked, walking up to his father.

Soul looked up at him from over the top of his phone, frowning. Then, he lowered the phone, gesturing at the moon behind them with his free hand. "The witches are going to break through that barrier, and hold it open for us so that we have a way out. It isn't going to last long, so while it's open, we'll attack with everything we have."

"Bust in there and attack whatever we see," Rei said, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his uniform jacket as he leaned against the wall beside his father. "Somehow I expected something a little more complicated than that."

"You have a better idea?" Soul asked, arching an eyebrow.

Rei bristled at the rebuke, then blinked when he realized that it wasn't a rebuke at all. His father was watching him, waiting to see if he actually did have a better plan. The respect somehow made him feel more embarrassed than if his father was actually scolding him, and he looked away, fixing his eyes on the floor at his feet.

"So we kill him?" Rei asked, after the silence had dragged on too long.

Soul shook his head, leaning back to look out of the window. "Can't kill a god," he said. "At least, not that easily. Best we can do is try to pass on that power to someone else."

His eyes moved across the bridge, landing on the small figure standing with Rei's mother. Rei followed his gaze, eyes widening.

"Crona?" he asked.

"Best option," Soul said, shrugging.

"There's a lot of holes in this plan," Rei said, settling back against the window.

"Like I said," said Soul. "You have a better idea?"

Rei let out a long exhale, because Soul knew very well that he didn't. His father watched him out of the corner of his eye, lifting his phone again.

"I guess there's no point in telling you to stay on the airship?" Soul asked.

"You just said we were attacking with everything we had," said Rei.

"Point." Soul swiped his finger across the screen, and something in Rei's pocket buzzed in response. "You're with Morgan," he said, putting his phone away. "Do your mom and me a favor. Try not to die."

"Darn," Rei said. "Well there go my plans for the afternoon."

Soul snorted, but didn't smile. He clapped a hand on Rei's shoulder as he moved past, heading back towards Maka. Rei hesitated before following. Maka looked up as they approached, breaking away from her conversation with Crona. She gave them a tense smile.

"Five minutes," Soul said, nodding at her.

She nodded back. "We're just about ready here," she said. "Everything's…"

Maka trailed off, looking around the room. Her eyes were distant, as if she was searching for something that none of them could see. It sent a shiver through him.

"Mom?" he asked, at the same time as Soul said, "Maka?"

Maka frowned, her brow furrowing. Her eyes narrowed, continuing to sweep the room.

"Rei, do you feel that?" she asked. "Engine room. Near the power supply."

Rei drew in a breath and closed his eyes, searching. His own Soul Perception wasn't as long-ranged as his mother's, but it was still fairly detailed, and the engine room wasn't too far away. The doors and passages got in the way of his second sight, that short-ranged clairvoyance that had served him so well on the moon earlier, but he could still feel the steady pulse of souls beneath him. The souls of the crew, nearly masked by the enormous amount of energy emanating from the power source, and right beside it, almost hidden, something else.

Another wavelength. Another _familiar_ wavelength.

His eyes snapped open and he turned towards his mother. "That's not possible," he said.

"What?" Soul asked, looking between them. "What's not possible?"

But Maka was already moving, heading towards the stairs at a run. Rei turned to follow her. The movement startled several of the people on the bridge, and the next thing Rei knew, they had a small crowd, all of them heading downstairs. He felt Ayame as she slipped through the crowd next to him, her shoulder bumping against his when he stopped abruptly, the startled engineers moving aside to give them room.

There were several barrels piled up near the airship's power source, carrying spare parts and important supplies for the journey. And one of those barrels was moving, wiggling back and forth.

"Bright Star—come on, stop squirming. I can't— _agh!"_

The barrel tipped over, spilling a load of small screws onto the floor of the engine room. And on top of the screws tumbled two children, one with black hair, another with hair the same shade of silver-white as Soul's. The assembled crowd stared as Maka's eyes narrowed, her hands moving up to rest on her hips.

Cori Evans propped herself up on her hands and looked at the crowd. A sheepish grin appeared on her face, revealing pointed teeth.

"Uh—heh heh—hello?" she said.

From the ground beside her, Bright Star let out a long sigh, burying his face in the screws.

In the silence that followed, Rei passed Ayame twenty dollars.

* * *

**Omake**

" _So you need one large Dead Chicken Deluxe and a two-liter cola? Anything else on that pizza, sir?"_

"Hang on just a minute," Spirit Albarn covered the mouthpiece of his cellphone with one hand, making his way up the stairs. "Cori?" he called. "What do you want on your pizza?"

There was no answer. Spirit frowned in suspicion, pausing in front of Rei's door. "Cori?" he called again, knocking twice. "Corpore, sweetheart? You alright in there?"

Still no answer. Spirit's frown deepened as he pushed open the door.

Rei's room was empty. He stared at it for one terrible moment, taking in the open window, the pristine surroundings, the lack of any grandchild anywhere.

Then he took off down the hallway, screaming.

"COOOORRRRIII!" he called, running back and forth in front of the door. "Where are you, Cori-chan? Corpore? Come back to Grandpa! This isn't funny anymore, Cori! Maka's going to kill me—oh no, oh no— _CORIIII!"_

" _Sir?"_ a voice asked, from the phone that now lay on the floor of Rei's room, discarded. " _Are you still there?"_


	51. Soul Eater ZERO; The World's Courage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are. The last chapter of the main story. Hope you guys enjoy this, and please don't take this off of your alert list just yet. We still have an epilogue to go!
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to all of you, since I wouldn't have gotten this far without your support.

**CHAPTER FIFTY**

**Soul Eater ZERO; The World's Courage**

* * *

Sunlight streamed in through an open window in the Patchwork Lab, shining onto a living room in a constant state of disarray. It slanted onto beakers filled with coffee, onto a stack of papers haphazardly deposited onto a desk, and over the scientist that sat hunched over at the desk, straddling a green, stitched chair and staring at the radio in front of him, the one that had been silent for the past hour. He reached out with one hand to poke at the radio, frowning as the device fell backwards onto the tabletop.

He supposed he could be doing worse things. He could be outside with Marie, staring up at the sky, getting blinded by the sun.

It really was bright in here. The sunlight was getting into his eyes. Stein blinked slowly, lifting his head as he turned towards the window Marie had opened. He contemplated whether or not it was worth going all the way over there to close it and decided against it, lowering his head back onto his folded arms.

Too much effort. He stared at the radio again.

"Anything?" a voice asked from behind him, sometime later. How much later, Stein wasn't sure. The desk in front of him had precisely one clock, and he'd already pushed it facedown so that he wouldn't be able to see it. There wasn't much point in keeping time. He straightened up and whirled around in his chair, fingers drumming out an erratic rhythm on the backrest as he turned to face Marie.

She was sitting on the couch, a white stuffed bear in her lap. The bear's limbs were laced with stitches, the result of a childhood accident nearly fifteen years ago. His eyes drifted from the bear to the woman who was holding it. Marie pursed her lips and narrowed her eye at him, as if daring him to say anything about it. He didn't, keeping up the erratic movement of his fingers.

They all had their coping mechanisms.

"Nothing," he said. "You?"

Marie shook her head. "You can't see the moon from here yet," she said, her lower lip trembling as she looked away. Her back was stiff, ramrod straight. "I texted Asuza, since it's nighttime over there, but she hasn't answered yet." Her fingers moved, nervously smoothing out the bear's fur. The motions said what her words didn't. Asuza was probably _busy._

Not for the first time, Stein wondered at the irony of it all. There had been a moment more than twenty years ago when he and Marie had been _essential._ He might have been so affected by Asura and Medusa and all of that insanity that he nearly forgot his own name, and Marie might have been pregnant, but they still went up to the moon to fight the Kishin because nobody else could. Now, it seemed, they weren't essential anymore. Now they were the ones left behind, told to do things like 'protect the school in case the worst happens' and 'standby for orders'.

It wasn't like it was an unimportant job. If the worst happened, those who had been left behind would find themselves responsible for hundreds of students, only a tenth of which had actually been trained to fight. It made sense to leave capable, experienced agents behind.

It definitely wasn't because they were getting old.

And they definitely weren't any less suited for the job just because he couldn't stop fidgeting and wouldn't look at the time and Marie had dug up an old bear that hadn't even been touched by its owner in years.

It's owner. Right. Shelley. He had a daughter, and her name was Shelley, and she was on the moon. He had definitely only just remembered that. He was definitely not worried about her. She was definitely not the reason why he refused to look at the clock, why he had gotten up three times to fill beakers with coffee that he didn't even drink.

He drummed his fingers faster on the chair, wishing for a cigarette.

As if reading his mind, Marie turned towards him, tightening her grip on the bear. "Well, we'll know soon enough," she said.

"Yes," Stein said, keeping up his drumming. "We will."

* * *

The warning signal came sooner than Rei expected, a siren that moved through the airship. Time to attack. He straightened up from where he was leaning against the wall below deck, glancing at his partner. Ayame rose from her seat on the slender steps that led up to the bridge, standing up with an ease that belied her own nervousness. She raised her arms over her head in a stretch, almost making it look like she was doing nothing more than stepping onto the mat for Naigus's Unarmed Combat class. But Rei knew better. He'd seen the tension in her when the alarm rang out, knew that she was scared too.

She was just better at hiding it than he was.

"Ready to go?" he asked, inclining his head towards the stairs above.

She gave him a tight smile in response. "Ready when you are."

He took a step forward, placing one hand on the railing as he moved past her, climbing up the stairs. He'd taken one step forward before he changed his mind, and he spun around quickly, looping an arm around Ayame's waist before he could lose his nerve and pressing his lips to hers.

The kiss was breathless, desperate, and over entirely too soon. Rei released her and stepped away from her, his heart racing as he met her eyes, looking into her stunned expression.

"In case we die," he said.

Ayame raised her hand to her mouth, still looking stunned as her fingers traced the outline of her lips. Rei turned away quickly, his face flushed as he started climbing the stairs.

"You weren't, I don't know, scared we'd die before this?" Ayame asked from behind him. "Like, uh, last night, maybe?"

"Ayame—," Rei began, his flush deepening.

"Right, right," said Ayame, beginning to climb. "I know. End of the world. Apocalypse. I get it. Let's get this over with."

By the time he made it out on deck with the others, his heart rate had gone back to normal, but it was close. He and Ayame stepped out of the way of the door, letting others move past them as he looked around. Everyone who could be spared was standing on the upper deck, arrayed around Shinigami and his weapons. He spotted his and Ayame's parents standing next to him, Maka and Tsubaki still scolding Cori and Bright Star respectively. The rest of their team—Vayne, Clark, Morgan and Cassie—waited a respectable distance away.

Rei walked over to them slowly, trying not to feel like he was walking to his own execution. The crushing weight of Asura's presence still hung in the air around him, muted thanks to the witches' Soul Protect, but still strong enough to terrify him. He was afraid, more than he would ever admit, but he buried that fear deep down, somewhere deep inside of himself.

If he survived the day, he would allow himself to feel scared. But right now, he had work to do.

"Ready to go?" Soul asked as he approached, looking away from Maka and Cori. Even over the hustle and bustle on the deck, he could still hear his mother's words, and winced in sympathy for his sister.

The truth wasn't flattering, but he did his best to answer his father's question anyway. "Is anyone?" he asked.

Soul flashed him a sharp-toothed grin. "Probably not," he said, "But we'll do the best that we can anyway."

He nodded at Rei as Maka finally broke away from Cori and started walking over to them, with one last parting ' _and don't you even_ think _about coming out on deck while the battle is going on, young lady'_ , stepping aside to join her. Maka's expression softened as she caught sight of Rei, and she gave him a tired nod, turning towards Shinigami.

"Time to go, Kid?" she asked.

"Just about," Shinigami said, not looking back at her. On his other side, Tsubaki rejoined Black Star, and Bright Star and Cori slunk back down the stairs, exiled below decks until the battle was over. Shinigami turned his head towards the small figure that stood near him, still wearing the body of Rei's sister. His brows arched. "Ready?"

Crona-in-Annie didn't answer, her eyes still fixed on the sphere of black blood that was Asura's power. But Rei saw her head dip forward in a nod, a black sword forming in her hand. Shinigami looked up, at the witches that hovered in the air over their heads.

"We're ready," he said.

A signal moved through the circle of witches that hovered around the moon. As one, their hands came up, power flooding them as the Soul Protect around the moon changed shape, a sharp blade of power cutting straight through the black blood's center. Rei caught a glimpse of a storm inside the sphere, blood and power raging beneath a black sky. In front of him, Shinigami reached for his weapons, Liz and Patty's pistol forms settling comfortably into his hands. Tsubaki transformed for Black Star without a word as beside him, Maka extended her hand towards Soul.

Soul's arm shifted as he reached for Maka's hand, becoming the shaft of his scythe form, but he paused before the transformation took hold of him entirely, looking out over Rei and Ayame. "You might wanna give us a minute before you follow," he said, and there was a smirk on his face that Rei couldn't read.

The light consumed him as he transformed, the gleaming steel of his scythe form settling into Maka's hands. Wings sprouted from the scythe blade as Maka quickly leaped up onto the handle, taking Crona by the hand and pulling her on behind her.

"Maka, Black Star, with me," Shinigami said, leaping off the deck. Maka followed, the wind whipping behind her as Soul's wings beat once, launching her into the air. Black Star crouched on the deck behind them, a grin on his face as he looked back at Rei and Ayame. He raised his hand towards Ayame once, a gesture of farewell, and then he was in the air too, catching up to Maka and Shinigami quickly.

Rei stared at them, wondering what they were planning. He had half a second to see their souls flare up inside their chests, reaching for each other.

Their Resonance was almost blinding.

"Whoa," Ayame said from beside him as Rei blinked the light out of his eyes. Beside him, he heard Cassie and Vayne make similar statements, their eyes on the battle in front of them. The three of them plowed into the sphere of black blood with all the force of a cannon ball.

Rei couldn't look directly at their souls—the light was too bright—but he had a moment to admire the fluidity and power with which they moved, to watch, entranced, as Black Star and Shinigami moved ahead of Maka and Crona, each of them cutting down several monsters one after another and opening a path straight towards the heart of Asura. His mother couldn't fight as well as she normally could with Crona riding with her, but she still managed to hold her own regardless, slipping through the barrage that greeted them like the wind itself.

The path blazed open behind them, a trail of light, beckoning the others to join them. The only place the light dimmed was around Crona, who had summoned up a halo of black blood around Annie's body, blood plastering itself to her skin like armor as the few creatures that managed to squeeze through Black Star and Shinigami's onslaught dashed themselves to pieces against that halo.

From his other side, he heard Morgan take in a sharp breath.

"He's not human," she said, watching as Black Star sliced cleanly through two giants several times larger than him, darting back up to slice through a spear of black blood that had been angled towards Maka and Crona.

"He is," Ayame said, awe in her voice as well. "That's the best part."

He could have stayed and watched the battle unfold forever, but an explosion of movement across the deck reminded him of his task, reminded him that he couldn't. He shook his head fiercely, shaking off his stupor, and nodded at Clark and Morgan.

"Come on," he said. "Time to earn our keep."

Clark held a hand out towards Vayne, who transformed in a flash of light, the pendulum settling into his meister's hand. From beside Rei, Morgan extended her hand out towards Cassie. After half a moment, she held a hand out towards Excalibur as well, a look of disgust and reluctance crossing over her features, but the strange creature only sighed and transformed, the white sword settling into her hand.

While his friends readied themselves, Rei reached for Ayame.

She transformed, shifting into Nocturne. He spread his wings, feeling the air currents shift and sway around him, his eyes fixed on the battle in front of them.

Then he kicked off of the deck, leading them all into the storm.

* * *

It was complete and utter chaos.

Not long after flying into the sphere, Rei quickly lost all sense of direction. It was a cacophony of wavelengths and power, playing havoc with both his Soul Perception and his hearing, so that when the full force of it hit him he felt as though he had gone both deaf and blind. It was all he could do to launch himself from attacker to attacker, to cut down the grasping hands reaching for them and keep the path open while his parents and the rest of their team made their way to the heart of Asura.

It was a good thing he and Ayame had learned to communicate without him having to speak, because he wasn't sure he could have gotten the words out anyway.

Ayame's feathered blades soared through the air as he flapped his wings, thin, rounded kunai that peppered the barriers beneath them. It was an effective attack, but an indiscriminate one, and that just wasn't good enough. There was a patch of stone beneath them, solid enough to stand on. He drew his fingers across the ragged patch of cloak in front of him, making a hand gesture.

The wings across his back dissolved into light, and his stomach lurched as he started to fall. He landed on the ground, a thin black European style dagger in his hand, small enough to conceal in his palm if he kept the handle tucked into his sleeve.

 _Zero Star Third Form: Lament._ Ayame's power compressed into a small, nearly invisible blade. He kicked off the ground as he landed, the residual power propelling him forward faster than he expected, and lashed out at the writhing creatures that rose up to surround him, stabbing at vital points beneath necks and between vertebrae and into hearts. Two went down, and at the third he made another hand gesture, Ayame's form shifting into the more recognizable shape of her katana form. _Zero Star Second Form: Elegy._ Elegy whirred through the air as he beheaded another creature, the downward slash transitioning quickly into a horizontal cut that bisected a leaping enemy at the waist. They all went down as he sliced into them, their bodies sinking back into the pool of black blood that they had emerged from. He blocked another blow with Elegy's flat, slipping beneath the sword and letting it transform into Requiem, which took two enemies out in one slash as it caught them in the curve of its scythe blade.

The problem, Rei considered, as he stood underneath the veil of steel that was Ayame, feeling her fire burn solidly inside of his soul, wasn't that each individual enemy was difficult to defeat. If he was fighting a finite quantity of them, he might have even said that this was easy. But it wasn't. Because every time one enemy fell, two seemed to replace it. Every time he killed one, it simply dissolved into black blood. It didn't go away. The witches could keep the black blood from regenerating some of the larger opponents, but their attention was focused on keeping Asura's madness at bay. They didn't have much thought to spare for Rei and some of the other DWMA operatives who were just trying to keep the way open, to keep Asura distracted enough that Shinigami and the others would have an easier time taking him down. The only person who seemed to be doing anything to negatively impact the black blood was Morgan. Excalibur was like a brand of white fire, leaving destruction everywhere she cut through, and the enemies cut down by _that_ sword did not regenerate. They lay on the earth, ragged wounds smoking as Morgan continued to cut, pressing forward with single-minded intensity.

But Morgan was only one person. Excalibur, however powerful, was only one sword. If the battle was allowed to go on infinitely long, they would tire, and they would lose. But that was what they were hoping to avoid.

He heard a shout from somewhere off to his left, a low, ragged cry of despair. Against his better judgment, Rei looked, and the lapse of concentration cost him. A tendril of black blood slammed into the side of his face, throwing him off to the side. He grit his teeth as he landed, Ayame shifting into her new shuriken form—sleeker and thinner, but still recognizably a shuriken. He blocked the next attack with the flat of the blade as he leaped back to his feet, slicing cleanly through the tendril. Only when it was gone did he look over his shoulder, did he take in the sight in front of him.

They had made it to the hollow they had been standing in earlier, just beneath the crest of the moon. Clark was kneeling on the ground, his arms around a prone figure. Rei looked and saw a head of blond hair, a pale face, eyes closed and mouth hanging open slightly. He felt out with his Soul Perception, but he already knew what he would find.

There was no soul, nothing but the last lingering traces of a wavelength. The woman Clark was holding was gone.

" _Clark—_ ," Vayne began, from beside him.

Clark didn't answer. Something snapped inside of him, some madness that finally broke beneath his eyes. Lightning snaked its way up his arm as he reached for Vayne, as he charged at the monsters that surrounded them. He let out a cry of rage as he plowed into the group of monsters, Vayne's blade slicing left and right as he cut and cut.

Rei muttered a curse under his breath.

" _He's going to hurt himself,"_ Ayame said, watching the scene with growing horror.

"I know," Rei said, but he couldn't deal with Clark just then. Something else was happening overhead, something that drew his attention. His parents and their team were far above them, striking at the heart of Asura's power.

He could hear them fighting, could see Shinigami and Black Star cutting down resistance left and right, could hear the sounds of his father's piano slicing down attackers before they could even reach them. He could hear one dissonant note, the only signal that something was wrong, a missed attack or a misjudged dodge or block, and it was because he could hear it that he looked up, that he saw a whip of black blood slam into Crona in his sister's body, knocking her off of her perch behind his mother. He saw Maka's eyes widen, saw her move to catch her, but Crona was falling too fast. Maka wouldn't make it in time.

Ayame transformed before he was even fully sure of what he was going to do, and he launched himself into the air, wings spread as he soared towards the small figure. As he flew, he looked down, at Clark still cutting his way through the monsters with single-minded intensity, at Morgan not too far from him.

"Morgan!" Rei shouted, pitching his voice to carry. "Take care of Clark!"

He caught Crona.

Somehow—maybe it was the armor—Rei expected the slight figure he caught to be heavier than she was, but she was almost frighteningly light, the same weight as Annie. The girl in his arms groaned, head lolling forward as if she was shaking off the blow. She had a sword in her hand, and that sword was screaming at her.

" _Hey, wake up!"_ the sword shouted. _"Wake up, you useless idiot, wake up!"_

Her eyes snapped open, confused and scared for half a second before her focus sharpened, her eyes fixing on Rei's. She started to sit up in his arms, propping herself up with her free hand as she looked up at the battle.

"This is bad," she said, her focus wavering as if she was in two places at once, trying to focus on something impossibly far away. "I can't hold him."

 _I can't hold him._ Which meant that Asura was about to break free. And if he did, if he broke free fully, Rei doubted that even the prison the witches had constructed would be able to hold him.

"What can I do?" he asked. "How can I help?"

Crona looked back at him, eyes widening as if seeing him for the first time. "I know you," he said. "You're—Rei, aren't you? You're Maka's son."

"Yeah," Rei said, feeling absurd. Here they were, flying through the air inches from the end of the world, and he was chatting about his mother. "Yeah, I am."

Crona nodded, frowning as if coming to a decision. She shifted in Rei's grip, looking back at Asura. Annie's face pulled into a frown that quickly turned into a look of determination, edged with fear. "I'm going to go back to my body," she said. "I'm going to try and take it back. It's the only thing I can do. When I go, you need to take care of Annie-chan. She's going to be scared, so you need to get her back to the airship where it's safe. Okay?"

"Okay," Rei said, his arms tightening their grip around the body.

Take care of Annie, fly her out of harm's way. He could do that. He hoped he could do that.

"Okay…" Crona repeated, taking in a deep breath. Her eyes fixed on Asura again, and Rei could see her hesitate, her fingers curling into tight fists as she looked up at the creature. A shudder ran through her. "I'm going to do it now."

"Sure," said Rei.

"This might be goodbye..."

" _Just do it already, before you chicken out again!"_ the sword shouted.

Another shudder passed through Crona and she winced, but she nodded and closed her eyes. "Goodbye," she said, tightening her grip on the sword.

"Good luck," Rei said, not really sure what else to say.

A light shot out of Annie, a pair of souls so deeply intertwined that it was hard to distinguish them. They moved almost too quick to see, the bright pink color bleeding out of Annie's hair as they left and leaving snow white in its place. The black blood armor lifted itself up off of his sister's body, both the armor and the sword streaming back into her through the small cut at her wrist. She gasped for breath but didn't open her eyes, her chest rising and falling slowly.

Rei held her close to him and shot one last look at the battle around the Kishin, at the path the two souls had taken. Then he turned, gritting his teeth as he left the battle behind and flew for the patch of open sky that led towards the airship.

* * *

Pulling away from Annie's body was a severance, a breaking. One second there was form and function, sight, sound, smell, sensation. There was blood, breath, and bone. In the next second, there was nothing, only consciousness and void. Only thought, and the overwhelming pressure of Asura's presence.

Crona could feel it tugging at them even now, as they rushed towards Asura, his soul and Ragnarok's bound so deeply with each other that there was no way to separate the two. He could feel the edges of his thoughts growing fuzzy again, like they did in the darkness, could feel Asura digging his fingernails into what was left of his mind, trying to pry it apart.

It almost worked. The darkness was so sweet, so tempting. There wasn't any fear in the darkness. There wasn't anything. It would be so easy to sink into it again.

There certainly wasn't death waiting there. Erasure. A test of wills against an overwhelming foe that he couldn't possibly hope to defeat. He had a feeling that what they were doing was the definition of insanity, and he didn't know how to deal with it.

What he told Rei hadn't been a lie. This might very well be the end. For both of them.

" _Hey, brat,"_ Ragnarok said, and was it Crona's imagination, or was there a hint of fondness in that remark? It was a reluctant fondness, but it was still there. _"Don't tell me you're getting second thoughts. We're already here. There's no turning back."_

There wasn't. He couldn't go back to Annie now. Annie's soul was a small pinprick of light, being carried farther and farther away. And they wouldn't last long in the void, couldn't hold back against the maelstrom of Asura's power for much longer than this. There was only one thing to do.

He looked down, as much as an abstract consciousness could have an idea of _down_ , at the combatants arrayed below him. At one in particular, blond hair streaming, green eyes blazing with inner fire as she launched herself at the manifestations of Asura's power. She was older now, different in a lot of ways, but she was the same in every way that counted.

She was his friend.

He fixed that in his mind, holding onto it, holding onto his identity as their small, conjoined soul looked up to face the vastness of Asura's presence.

Ragnarok was right. There wasn't any turning back.

Their souls sharpened themselves into a needle, an arrow that shot across the sky, straight towards the heart of that power.

* * *

Shelley Stein had always been alone.

It wasn't that she didn't have family that loved her, because she did, and it wasn't that she didn't have a partner who cherished her, because she did, but there had always been a distance, a separation between her and everyone else around her. All through her childhood, people watched her, looking for any signs of madness. They found none, but that meant nothing. Sanity meant nothing. All of her adult life, Shelley had understood a simple truth—that it was fully possible to be both completely sane and on a different frequency from anyone else.

In fact, the sanity made it worse. Because she didn't have the comfort of madness to run to, didn't have a screw she could turn to make the voices in her head speak clearly every now and then. Instead, it felt like she was looking at the world through a permanent haze of static, like she was a radio that was tuned permanently, perfectly off-key. And she'd hated it. She'd tried so hard to be just like everyone else, to _think_ just like anyone else. But in a world of outcasts, she was the only one who wasn't able to fit in. Because she wanted nothing more than to be like her mother, to be like Luna, to be warm and welcoming and _liked_ , to instinctively understand people when they came to her, to be able to soothe all their hurts and worries.

And she wasn't.

She had her father's versatile soul, could alter her wavelength to match any meister, but that didn't mean she _understood_ them. It just meant that she was a very good actor.

She'd wanted nothing more than to be _normal_. And she wasn't. Every day she lived, she felt like she was putting on a show. A performance, a face that she wore so that she fit in with the rest of humanity. It was only the people she loved the most that made her feel like she was understood, and each of those connections had been hard won, born out of years of trying.

And out of all of those, Micah had been the one she valued the most. Because outside of her family, he was the only one that she hadn't had to try to understand, hadn't had to tune in to.

 _He_ had reached out to _her_ , and for a time, he had made her feel normal.

That time shattered when Luna died.

She ducked beneath his blow, seeing the madness shining in his red eyes as he edged closer to her. Her scalpel hand flicked out, a rapid movement across his chest, and she felt the tips of the blades meet skin, felt them draw blood. At the same time, his fingers brushed across the side of her face, ice flooding her veins. They drew away from each other just in time, Micah bleeding from an array of thin cuts across his chest, Shelley feeling as if the side of her face had turned to ice. He lunged in towards her and she twisted out of another blow to the head, his fingers tugging her hair free of its bindings. A blast of wind knocked him back and he stumbled, one wrong step away from falling into the whirlwind that she had put up around them.

She sucked in a breath as he regained his footing, feeling her chest burn from the exhaustion. The battle had gone on long enough that she could no longer see any trace of sunlight, could see nothing but the black blood that swirled around them, kept back by the whirlwind that she had created. The fingers of her left hand had gone completely numb, as had the skin on her wrist, and the side of her face. Across from her, Micah was bleeding from several thin cuts, his elaborate coat disheveled and hair plastered to the side of his face. The ground around them was littered with slashed cards. He had thrown them at her face a while ago, a distraction while he set up another attack, and she had slashed them out of the air. They were evenly matched, occasionally scoring blows, occasionally driving each other back, but unable to get the upper hand over the other. They knew each other too well for that, and so the battle continued, an endless back and forth while the world ended around them.

And it was wrong. It was _so_ wrong.

She blinked rapidly to clear the tears out of her eyes as he charged at her, angry at herself for the emotions and angry at him for bringing them out in her. It would be so easy if she were mad, she thought. If she didn't care. If she could be nothing more than a blade, an instrument of destruction.

It would be so easy to be mad.

Instead she was fully aware as she lowered her center of gravity, as she widened her stance and slid forward, scalpel hand slicing across his chest. And she was also fully aware when Micah grabbed her by the back of her hair, yanking on it and pulling her onto the ground.

Her head struck the stone hard, momentarily disorienting her, but instinct kept her fighting, let her grab at his wrists with both her hands so that she could drag him down on top of her.

He landed with a grunt of pain, his free hand still gripping her hair tightly. His other hand, the one wreathed in the unearthly light brought on by the Death card, was inching closer to her skin, held back only by her now-human hand. Hot blood dripped from his wounds, staining the fabric of her blouse as she grit her teeth and shoved against him, trying to push him off of her. Ice spread through the skin of her hand as she held back his arm, as all the while, Micah inched closer towards her neck.

It was a losing battle. And because her mind couldn't stop calculating the odds, couldn't take a moment to just appreciate the immensity of the emotional distress that she was in, she knew it. She knew very clearly that she would soon lose all function in her hand, that there would be nothing stopping him from killing her. She grit her teeth, pushing harder, but it wasn't working. It wouldn't work. There wasn't anything else she could do.

"You'll die," she gasped out, meeting his eyes as he inched closer to her, his weight suffocating her. "Asura won't let you live. You'll kill me, and the barrier will fall, and you'll die."

"We'll die together," Micah said, his eyes crazed. There was a grin on his face, his teeth stark white in the half-light. "That's how it should have been, Shell. How it was always supposed to be. We should have died together."

She shoved at him uselessly. He didn't move. Her hand was so cold. She was already beginning to go numb.

"You're insane," she said. "The Kishin's getting to you. The Micah I know wouldn't—." Wouldn't what? She broke off abruptly, staring at him. The Micah she knew was gone. There was very little that this new Micah wouldn't do.

"Am I?" Micah asked, leering at her. "Or do I finally see the truth for the first time? It's everything I ever wanted, Shell. It's true freedom. It's so, so beautiful. If only you could see…"

He trailed off, sitting up so that he was straddling her. Shelley gasped out a breath as the pressure on her chest eased. His eyes were glazed over as he stared at the whirlwind that surrounded them, the vortex of black blood.

It was only when she caught her breath, when she was able to tilt her head back to look at the maelstrom, that she realized what he was looking at.

The tornado was weakening. Asura's madness was leaking through. She had only a moment to process that before twin tendrils of black blood reached through the gap, grabbing at her arms and yanking her out from under him.

Shelley screamed, thrashing in the black blood's hold, but unlike Micah, who had been made of flesh and blood, Asura's tendrils were relentless. She felt her glasses slip down her face as she fought and thrashed, but they grabbed at her, holding her fast as the shadows rose up around her, blades pointed directly at her chest.

At her soul. Asura was going to take her soul.

"No!" she shrieked, kicking out at the mass that held her. "NO! Don't—! Mic—."

Her plea broke off mid-word as she looked down, her eyes fixing on him. Why had she done that? Why had she called out for him? The boy she knew wasn't there anymore. He was dead. He had died long ago, and this _thing_ that had been left in his place wasn't going to help her. Even now, he was staring at her, standing on the bare earth untouched by the shadow. Even now, there was nothing but confusion in his red eyes as he stared up at her, nothing but the slightest hint of dismay that he hadn't been able to finish her off himself. Her eyes met his, wide with horror and desperation.

Something broke behind his eyes, some flash of recognition appearing in them.

And then the darkness took her, drawing her in.

* * *

Annie started to stir just as Rei cleared the border of black blood around the moon, wings spread to catch the air currents as he angled himself towards the airship. She shifted in his arms and groaned, eyelids fluttering. He tightened his grip as she opened her eyes, blinking wide green eyes up at him.

"Rei…?" she asked, her voice soft.

"It's me," Rei said. "You're okay now, Annie. I'm taking you back to the airship."

"The…airship…?" Annie's brow furrowed as she pushed herself up, looking past Rei. Her eyes widened as she caught sight of the moon behind them, and Rei felt her go rigid. "We're on the _moon_?!" she asked. "Rei—!"

He tried to soften his voice, but it still came out harsher than he had intended. "I know," he said, cutting her off. "I know you're scared. Don't worry, I'll take care of you."

"But what about Crona?" Annie asked, drawing back sharply and looking into Rei's eyes. "What—what happened to Crona?"

"Crona left to help Mom and Dad with Asura," Rei said. "He—he said it was something only he could do." He refrained from saying that Asura was waking up. The explanation would only worry Annie, and it wouldn't help anyone. From the way her eyes widened in distress, though, she was worried enough anyway.

"No," Annie said, shaking her head. "No, no, no, no. Crona _left_? He went back there by _himself_?!" She looked out over Rei's shoulder, her hands gripping his uniform jacket tightly as she stared at the chaos around the moon. Rei winced.

"It's going to be okay—," he began, feeling like a broken record.

"No, Rei, it's not! _Listen_ to me!"

He jerked back in surprise as Annie grabbed his face, pulling it down sharply so that he was looking at her. Her eyes were narrowed in determination, and there was a surprising amount of fire in there. He hadn't seen that in Annie before. The change caught him off-guard enough that he had no choice _but_ to listen to her, couldn't think of anything to say.

"Crona _can't_ beat Asura," she said. "He's not strong enough! If he was, he would have done it already!"

"How do you know that?" Rei asked, gaping at her.

"I—." Annie's brow furrowed in confusion, her head turning from left to right as if she was searching for the answer in the sky. "I—sensed it. I don't know. I don't understand. I— _oh."_

Black blood streamed from the small cut in Annie's arm, floating gently towards the mass of black blood around the moon as if attracted by it. Rei grit his teeth and stopped it with a gloved hand, pushing it back towards Annie. She stared at it, eyes wide, then reached out with both hands for it. The blood streamed back through her fingers and into her body, the hole quickly sealing itself as she asserted control over it again.

"I need to go back," she said, looking up at Rei. "I need to help him."

"I'm not taking you back there," Rei said. "Are you crazy?"

Annie shook her head, and while her face was white with fear and her hands were cold as she gripped his uniform jacket, there was nothing crazy in her gaze. "I can—I can _feel_ Asura," she said. "He's getting weaker, but he's not weak enough. And Crona can't even get back to his body. He doesn't have any black blood to _use_ to control Asura. He's going to die if we don't help him."

"First of all, if I take you back into _that_ , Mom's going to kill me," Rei said. "And second of all, you're _eight_. If you get any closer to Asura, he's going to bleed you dry. Or take _you_ over."

Annie paused, blinking at him thoughtfully. She pressed her lips tightly together, studying the moon behind them as they flew farther and farther away. Then, as if coming to a decision, she nodded to herself, looking back up at him. "Not if we have the Anti-Magic Wavelength," she said. "I think I can control myself if we have that."

"Yeah, but I don't have that wavelength, remember?" Rei asked. "And it's not like we can get to Mom."

"We don't need to," Annie said. Her voice was soft, hesitant, as if even she couldn't believe what she was suggesting. Her arms wrapped tight around her middle. "Mom's not the only one with an Anti-Magic Wavelength."

Rei followed her gaze as Annie turned her head, her eyes landing on the airship. Then he understood.

"No," he said. "No way. Absolutely _not_."

Annie looked up at him, eyes wide. Rei stared down at her for a few long moments, before swearing loudly, pulling her close to him. He put on a burst of speed, shooting for the airship.

* * *

"I can't believe you talked me into this!" Rei shouted a few moments later, as Cori let out a whoop of exultation, her scythe form extended to catch the breeze. From inside her own soul space, Annie was surprisingly calm, watching the moon grow closer with a solemn, serene expression on her face.

" _Oh, come on Rei, don't be such a spoilsport!"_ Ayame shouted as the four of them dove through the air, the wings of her Nocturne form pressed tight against Rei's back. _"We're going to make one hell of an entrance!"_

"We're going to _die_!" Rei said. "And if Asura doesn't kill us, our parents _will_!"

He bowed his head as they flew into the wind, his protests drowned out by Ayame's shout of excitement. A stray gust of wind threatened to blow them all off the path and he quickly spread out a wing to steady themselves, launching themselves faster and faster towards their goal.

He held Annie's scythe form in his left hand and Cori's in his right, and already, a haze of black blood was lifting off of the scythe in his left hand, negated only by the aura of light rising from the scythe in his right. And all of that was brought together by the heat rising up inside of his soul, the warmth of Ayame's wavelength seeping into his.

" _Okay,"_ Cori said as they drew closer, her voice sharp in Rei's ear. _"This is what we're going to do. Annie, remember that attack we were practicing? The one where we attack at the same time?"_

" _I remember,"_ said Annie, from Rei's other side.

Rei frowned. "This isn't the same attack that blew a hole through the roof last Thanksgiving, is it?" he asked.

" _Um…"_ said Cori. _"We're a little bit better at it now."_

"Are you?" Rei asked. "Are you really? Because you know, that was a few months ago, and I don't remember Death City Elementary teaching any combat lessons—."

" _Well we're going to_ have _to be better at it now, or we're all going to_ die _,"_ said Cori, _"Sheesh, Rei. Is_ that _what you want to hear?"_

"I just want to know that I'm not flying my little sisters into a suicide mission," said Rei. "Is that so bad?"

" _We'll be fine,"_ said Cori, resting her hands on her hips. _"We've got this. We just—you know, could use a little more power."_

" _I can help with that,"_ Ayame said. _"Rei, you remember what Maka-sensei was trying to tell us? Before we arrived at the moon?"_

"Your amplification ability?" Rei asked, frowning in thought. "I remember."

" _Time to use it,"_ Ayame said.

"I still don't think we should be doing this," said Rei, his eyes narrowing as he dodged a stray tendril of black blood, banking sharply and drifting around it.

" _We can do this, Rei."_

Annie's voice was soft when she spoke, but there was a quiet resolution to her words that made Rei stop and listen. She stood solemnly in her corner of the soul space she shared with Cori, one hand clenched tightly over her chest as she stared out at the world. Rei drew in a deep breath, slowing to a stop in the air just over the Kishin.

He nodded.

"Let's get this over with, then," he said, holding the scythes out to either side of him.

He reached for Ayame's soul. Her wavelength responded, their resonance building up, brighter and brighter as their shared soul expanded to fill the space around them. He could feel power flooding through him as Ayame began to glow, floating off of the ground in her soul space. Black lines traced themselves across her skin and then flared a bright white as the power between them continued to build, a heat bubbling up inside of him that was almost unbearable. He grit his teeth and tightened his hold on the scythes, feeling the power grow, feeling his own soul ripple and expand to meet it.

Holding it in was agony. He breathed deep, trying to control it. The black of the cloak that rested on his shoulders flared into a rippling white, white light threading through the feathers of his wings.

At the last second, just when Rei thought his soul was about to be torn apart, Ayame opened her eyes.

" _Ready,"_ she said.

Before he could think better of it, before he could even stop to consider what he was doing, he reached for his sisters' souls. Annie and Cori's wavelengths threaded into his, melding with his own soul.

And the power that Ayame had built up pulsed back into them.

The haze of black blood around Annie's blade rose up into a storm, the faint aura of light around Cori's into a golden river. Rei twitched his wings and shot forward like a bullet, racing towards Asura. He had just a second to catch sight of his parents, to see Shinigami and Black Star in his periphery as they rushed past them, light and shadow trailing behind them like dust. His mother's face was fearful, Shinigami's was surprised, Black Star was grinning.

He activated his Soul Perception and the world around him burst into a sudden riot of light and color, sensation flooding through him like he had never felt it before. He could feel the unsteady hum of Crona's wavelength, could feel Crona's struggle as Asura pushed him down again and again. Annie was right. Crona would never beat Asura on his own, but the battle hadn't left the Kishin unscathed. He could feel the weaknesses in Asura, the places where Shinigami, Maka and Black Star had been hammering at for the entirety of this battle, the cracks that were starting to show in the armor. That armor was about to break, and if it did break, Crona would have a chance.

The battle was so close to a tipping point. It just needed that last extra push.

He drew up in front of Asura's presence, mouth open and throat hoarse. It took him a second to realize that he was screaming. Annie and Cori were screaming too, eyes narrowed in determination, voices rising in time with his. As he stopped, the twins linked hands, bodies glowing inside their shared soul space. The glow spread across the surface of their weapon forms, the black blood and the light intermingling.

Rei moved his arms like the hands of a clock, Cori's scythe moving up, Annie's scythe moving down. Black blood and light followed the movements, forming a circle of light and shadow in the air around him. The circle connected, momentarily frozen in perfect symmetry.

Then Ayame released her grip on the power she had been holding, and all of that power broke free.

A wave of light and darkness crashed into the Kishin, slamming straight into that weak point that their parents and Shinigami had created.

And through his Soul Perception, Rei felt something breaking.

* * *

Asura's presence was strong, overwhelming. He could feel it pressing in on him, crushing him from all sides, sapping what was left of his strength.

Brew's faltering power flickered around him, the last vestiges of its power clinging to what was left of his body. He could feel Asura's presence digging its tendrils into his soul, could feel Asura's mad glee as the Kishin grabbed at him, tearing off small portions of his power and consuming them whole.

Consciousness flickered.

He could feel Maka attacking Asura, could feel Kid and Black Star doing the same. He could hear the faint traces of Soul's music, could feel the energies of the world around him, of everyone that was attacking Asura, fighting for their right to live.

It wouldn't be enough. It was never going to be enough.

There wasn't any hope. There was nothing. There was only fear. Overwhelming, crushing fear. It would be so easy to give into it.

There was nothing more he could do. There was nothing—

A light shone through the darkness, a bolt slamming into the center of Asura's power and loosening Asura's grip on him, if only for a moment. Consciousness returned, sweet and sharp, and if he'd had a body, he would have gasped for air. He thought he heard a voice in that attack, thought he heard someone's soul, calling to him.

" _Crona-san!"_

Annie.

Crona twisted away from Asura in one sudden movement, sliding through the gaps in Asura's hold. Power flooded outwards from him as Asura's soul began to falter, pinkish-violet light slithering into the cracks of Asura's consciousness. He felt the Kishin recoil as he pushed harder, felt Asura's surprise as Crona's power grew, felt that surprise turn into fear.

" _Use me!"_ Ragnarok shouted, his voice loud in Crona's non-existent ear. _"Don't hesitate, you idiot. Use me!"_

"Are you sure?" Crona asked, hesitating in spite of the sword's instructions not to. "If I use you, you might not come back."

" _Do you have any choice, brat?"_ Ragnarok asked. _"Sheesh, this is why I hate working with stupid kids!"_

He felt Ragnarok's determination well up inside of him, felt it almost as if it were his own. Crona drew his soul around himself like a breath, holding it before letting it out. Then he reached for Ragnarok's power. Something in his soul broke as Ragnarok's consciousness tore itself away from his own. It was agony, but Asura's presence had been enough agony. He barely even noticed.

The Demon Sword's soul shot towards Asura's like a missile, the point forming into a spearhead as it stabbed straight through the center of Asura's power. Asura's soul shone in response, his own wavelength a blistering red compared to Crona's violet light. Those two souls crashed over each other, light flaring up in the spaces they met in, a white light that filled up the whole of Crona's vision.

"You can't,"Crona heard Asura say, and suddenly the Kishin was crouched before him, kneeling on a void of white, propped up on his elbows, hands threaded through the black and white of his hair. The void was cracked around his elbows and feet, darkness showing through the gaps, and Ragnarok's black blade was stabbed straight through his chest, dark energy crackling throughout the sword as it pinned Asura to the ground. "You can't, you can't, you can't—. It's not your power. It was never yours. The fear of the world is _**mine**_ **.** "

Fear washed over him, bright and terrible, coming off of Asura in waves. It made Crona want to falter, and for a second he did. For a second, he did allow himself to take a step back, to hesitate, to be driven back by the force of Asura's fear. But the second passed and he stepped forward again, eyes narrowed in determination. The violet light around him parted, peeling away from his form.

And then he was standing in front of Asura, feet resting on the smooth white expanse of the void around them.

"I think…" he said, his voice soft because a part of him still couldn't believe that he was really doing this, really standing in front of his captor and prisoner of twenty years and talking to him like this, "…I think that the world's had enough of fear."

Asura braced his hands on the ground, the white floor cracking beneath his palms as he turned his head towards Crona. Red eyes sought out Crona's own. "What would you know of fear?" he asked. "Of _suffering_? You think you can take this power from me, child? You'll be no different from me." He grinned, white teeth flashing even through his pained breaths. "Can you feel it? Can you feel their fear around us? Everyone is afraid. You'll take their fear, and you'll plunge this world into pain and darkness, _just as I did."_

"You're wrong," Crona said.

He didn't know where the words were coming from, only that they were true. And that they were right.

Asura's brow furrowed in confusion, as if he hadn't expected that from Crona. Which was fair, Crona thought. He hadn't expected that from himself either.

But he kept on talking anyway.

"You're wrong," he said, firmer this time. "I'm not going to be like you."

Maka's face flashed into his mind, the smile she had worn when befriending him for the first time, her hand extended to him. He saw her face again, saw her as she appeared now, green eyes narrowed in determination and blond hair streaming out behind her. The picture filled itself in around her, Soul and Black Star coming into hazy focus. Tsubaki. Liz and Patty. Kid. He saw Rei appear as a shadow in his mind, red eyes shining as he fought back the darkness around him. Saw Annie as he had seen her in that broken room of hers, saw her blinking the tears out of his eyes as she reached for his hand.

"Everyone's afraid," he said, his voice soft as he looked away from Asura. "But they're still fighting. Even though they're afraid, they're still here. They're still fighting you. They refuse to give into fear. Why do you think that is?"

"Because they're deluded," said Asura. "They think the fear doesn't affect them. That it doesn't control them. But we know better, don't we, _Crona_? We know what fear is, what it does. Don't we?" His features seemed to blur and morph in front of Crona's eyes, becoming something different. Something more feminine, all blond hair and gold eyes and darkness like writhing snakes around him.

" _Don't we?"_ Asura asked, but the voice that spoke was Medusa's.

Crona shuddered and clenched his fists, gritting his teeth. He looked away, squeezing his eyes shut, then slowly, deliberately, forced his eyes open again, forced himself to look back.

Medusa couldn't hurt him, he told himself.

It was just Asura. Nothing more.

"They aren't deluded," he said. "They're _brave_. They understand their fear, accept their fear, and because of that, they have courage."

"That's madness," Asura said, mouth splitting open in a good approximation of Medusa's grin. "Nothing but madness."

"Maybe…" said Crona. Light spread outwards from him, chasing away the last vestiges of Medusa's image and revealing Asura's form again, revealing the Kishin crouching on the ground in front of him, pinned there by Ragnarok's power. "But if you think about it, if courage is madness, then it really is another type of Madness of Fear. If you can't have courage without fear, then I won't become like you. I won't take all the world's fear."

Their faces flashed through his mind again. Maka and Soul, Black Star and Tsubaki. Kid, Liz and Patty. Rei. Annie. Ragnarok. The light around him grew brighter with each thought, with each name, washing over himself and Asura.

"I'll take all the world's courage."

The light flared, consuming both of them with its brilliance.

* * *

Shelley woke up.

That had been unexpected. She hadn't thought that she would wake again, that she would know anything but blackness. But she did wake up, did get to open her eyes and feel the warmth of the sun on her face, to see the black blood fading around her. She blinked in confusion, staring up at the blue sky above her, feeling the sunlight seep into the stones at her feet.

Something significant had just happened, and she didn't know what. The world had changed, and she didn't know why.

She wasn't alone.

She gasped as she felt the presence of the soul beside her, sitting up. Micah groaned from where he lay face down on the earth beside her, but he didn't stir. His face was pale, his cloak in tatters, his breathing labored. There were bruises on his body that hadn't been there before, blunt force injuries that she hadn't caused. They stood out starkly against his skin. The jewel at his neck was shattered and spent, the last remnants of his cards scattered around him.

His fingers were bruised and bloody. She saw that, the detail trickling in through the haze of her mind as she reached for his hand, running her fingers gently over the wounds. They almost looked like…defensive wounds. Like he had been clawing at Asura's black blood, trying to break himself free.

Or to break _her_ free.

An image passed through her mind in that instant, the last image she saw before the darkness swallowed her. Micah surging forward, hand outstretched towards her, eyes wide in desperation. He had screamed her name.

Her fingers brushed the hair out of his face, a tender motion that came almost instinctively. And his eyes slowly opened.

She pulled her hand back. She hadn't been expecting him to wake. The red of his eyes was solemn, sunken, but the spark of intelligence was still in them as he looked up at her.

"You tried to save me," Shelley said, her voice shaking. "Why?"

Micah stared at her, drawing in a rattling breath. In some corner of her mind, she registered that she didn't like the sound of that. That it likely meant some sort of fluid in the lungs. He exhaled all at once and lowered his gaze, corner of his lip quirking upwards.

"Old habit," he said. "Are you—alright?"

"I—I think so—," Shelley said, giving herself a cursory inspection anyway. She felt sore, wounded and slightly concussed, but she didn't think she had any lasting injuries. At the very least, she wasn't bleeding out, and all of her fingers and toes still worked. But—

Her eyes landed on him again. "You're not."

"No," he agreed, closing his eyes. "I'm not. But I'm glad—that you're alright. For some reason, that makes me really happy."

Her throat closed up, tears pricking at her eyes. Her medic's mind was already working, her fingers reaching for the kit strapped to her waist. "I can—maybe—."

He caught her by the wrist, his grip surprisingly strong as his eyes opened again. "Don't," he said, brow furrowing as if the words were hard. "Just—stay. Until the end. Can you do that—for me…?"

"I—." Her voice was thick. It was hard to speak, hard to breathe, but she allowed him to pull her hand away from the medical kit. "I—can do that, Micah."

"Good," he said. His fingers fell away from her wrist as he slumped forward again, closing his eyes. "I'm glad. If someone has to take my soul, I'm glad it's you, Shelley…"

She didn't know what to stay to that, didn't know what she _could_ say. So instead, she placed a hand on his back, hesitantly at first, and then firmer. The crease on his brow faded as he felt her touch, his features relaxing. Beneath her fingertips, she could feel his heartbeat, slow and steady, could feel his breathing.

She saw him smile. It was a faint smile, as if even smiling was taking too much effort.

She sat with him until his breathing slowed, until his heartbeat began to weaken, the space between his breaths getting longer and longer. When he spoke, it startled her. She hadn't expected him to ever speak again.

"Do you think…" he asked, his voice coming out in a whisper. "Do you think Luna will ever forgive me…?"

Shelley sucked in a ragged breath, feeling something stabbing at her heart. And yet, she smiled. She didn't understand why she smiled, even through the tears and the pain and the anger, but she did. Her hand moved up, threading through his hair.

"Ask her yourself," she said.

He smiled, pushing back against her hand just slightly.

And then he sagged back onto the earth and was gone.

* * *

It was surprisingly quiet in the aftermath of the battle.

Morgan would have thought that with so much happening, with so many main players, that it would have been loud, but it was almost startlingly silent. It was as if a hush had settled over the whole world in the aftermath, like all creation was holding its breath, waiting to see that the threat was truly gone and that life could actually continue. There were only two main hubs of activity, the space around the DWMA's airship and the group of people surrounding the newly-minted shinigami.

It was interesting. Her grandmother had wanted to create a new bearer of the Fragment of Fear, and in many ways, she had succeeded. Just not the way she had wanted to.

In the silence, it was easy to slip away. No one noticed that she had broken away from the main group, no one except for Cassie, who had understood with a glance that this was something Morgan needed to do alone.

She landed softly on the surface of the island, walking towards the figure that lay prone on the ground, staring up at the sky. The sword in her hand was heavy as she loomed over her grandmother, looking down on this woman that had caused her so much pain, that had made her childhood such a torrent of misery. She looked down at the woman that had had her uncle killed, her mother killed, that had driven her other uncle into killing himself.

The Morrigan looked up at her, beautiful even in her weakness, and smiled. Morgan debated the merits of putting Excalibur's point straight through her teeth.

"Are you here to kill me, granddaughter?" the Morrigan asked.

The sword point wavered, her right hand tightening its grip on the hilt. She could feel Excalibur's eagerness in the blade and had no doubt that the sword would follow through, if that was what she wished. She could still feel the thin strip of cord tied around her wrist, blocking out the Pull of Magic. This feeling had nothing to do with the Pull.

A part of her, a part that had nothing to do with being a witch and everything to do with being a human, wanted to do it.

But only a part.

The rest of her had better things to do with her time.

"Unlike you," Morgan said, narrowing her eyes at her grandmother. "I don't kill family. But there is someone here who would like to speak with you."

She stabbed Excalibur point down through the ground, removing her hand from the hilt and letting it fall back to her side. As she turned away from her grandmother, she glanced at the sword, pausing in place.

"Our bargain is fulfilled," she said.

She could feel Excalibur's agreement as she turned her back, walking away.

* * *

"I surrender!" the Morrigan cried less than half an hour later, practically throwing herself at the Old Witch and the witches arrayed around her. Her hair was frazzled and standing on end, her appearance disheveled as she grabbed onto the witch's cloaks. "I surrender!" she yelled, pointing at Excalibur with one finger. "Now get me away from this _thing_!"

The witches grabbed the Morrigan by the arms, peeling her off of the Old Witch and leading her away. Maka watched the scene unfold from her position on the airship, a small smile on her face as she looked around at the people standing with her. On the other side of the airship's deck, near the prow, Liz and Patty were standing around Crona, who had regained control of his own body and now looked no different than he had twenty years ago. She watched out of the corner of her eye as Liz and Patty leaned in to examine him, Patty occasionally poking him in the cheek.

"So Asura went in here?" Patty asked, poking Crona harder. Crona looked away, lowering his eyes to the ground, one of his hands gripping the other.

"Um—well—," Crona began.

"So what, are you a shinigami now too or something?" Liz asked, her hands on her hips as she leaned closer. Crona stepped back nervously, avoiding her gaze.

"Uh, well that's—."

"You don't _look_ like a shinigami!" said Patty, reaching forward and grabbing Crona by the face.

Crona let out a squeak of surprise, and the air around him rippled for a second, his image distorting as if a second image had been overlaid on top of the world. In that second image, Crona's pink hair had changed into a deep black laced with white stripes shaped like eyes, and his dark eyes flashed a bright red. The sky flashed red with black clouds before returning back to its original form, Crona's normal coloring asserting itself. Liz shrieked in panic and leaped away from him as Patty let out a whoop of delight, clapping her hands.

"Awesome!" Patty said, even as Crona shrank back away from her, wrapping his arms tight around his middle. "Do that again!"

"Whoa, cool…" said Bright Star with wide eyes, standing next to Crona for a second before being ushered away by a frazzled-looking Tsubaki.

"Hey!" Kid barked from where he was standing with the witches, overseeing the capture of the Morrigan. "Don't mess around with that!"

Patty grinned and skipped over to Kid, her hands clasped behind her back. "So, is Crona going to live with us now?" she asked.

Kid looked uncomfortable. "Um—well—," he began.

"Because you know, if he's like you now, he should probably live with us, right?" Patty asked.

"Well—uh—we can decide that when we land—," Kid began, but Patty was already running back over to Crona, grabbing him by both hands and spinning him around.

"You're going to live with us~" she said. "You can have the attic. The kids are too scared to go up there."

Crona stared at her with wide eyes as she manhandled him, looking flustered and confused.

"We're not putting him in the attic!" Kid shouted. He thrust the clipboard he was holding into the hands of a confused-looking Soul, marching over to her. "Patty—!"

Soul blinked over at Maka, holding up the clipboard with one hand. He pointed at it with the other, as if asking her what the hell he was supposed to be doing with it. Maka raised her hand to her mouth to hide her giggle and looked away, waving him off with her free hand. She looked back at the activity around her as more people arrived from the surface of the moon, landing on the deck.

" _YES!"_ Ayame shouted as she transformed back into her human form, leaping on Rei and wrapping her arms around his neck. "Yes! We're alive! We made it! We're awesome!" Rei stared at her, a little bemused as she pried herself off of him, jumping twice on the deck before spinning around, her eyes landing on Vayne. "Vayne—get over here, you big dope! We made it! Clark—."

She froze as she saw Clark, who was leaning against the ship's railing, his head bowed. One of his arms was wounded and being tended to by a medic, but his free hand was covering his eyes, his glasses pushed up over the hand. Maka took a step towards him at the same time as Rei did, and the two of them froze, glancing at each other in surprise.

She smiled first. Rei looked away, his expression hesitant, before he returned it.

"I'm proud of you," she said, and she was. Seeing him charge in had almost given her a heart attack, but she couldn't deny that she was proud of him. "All of you," she added, inclining her head to the two girls standing with him.

A small voice spoke up from somewhere around the vicinity of Rei's left hip. "So—uh—does this mean we aren't in trouble?"

"Oh, you're grounded until graduation, Cori," said Maka without missing a beat. "But we can talk about that later." She raised her eyes back to Rei's, smiling at him again. "You should go to your friends."

Rei nodded, still looking slightly awkward as he released his hold on the twins, walking over to the small huddle that had formed around Clark. Maka watched as Morgan, who had just landed, stepped away from her spot beside Ayame, giving Rei room to stand between them. The two of them exchanged a smile, and Rei put a hand on Ayame's shoulder as he turned to speak to Clark.

She felt Soul approaching her before she saw him, felt him place an arm around her shoulder as he looked down at the twins. Annie immediately threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist, and he blinked in surprise before smiling, placing a hand on her head of white hair.

"You're okay, kiddo," he said, and Maka got the sense that he was saying it as much for himself as for Annie. "You're alright."

"What about me?" Cori asked, frowning at Soul. "Do I get a hug?"

"You get grounded," Soul said, frowning at her. He glanced at Maka. "Did you already ground her?" At Maka's nod, he turned back towards Cori. "You're grounded twice."

Cori pouted at him, lip quivering. Soul let out a long-suffering sigh, holding out his other arm. "Come on, then."

Cori grinned, launching herself at him. Soul let out an 'oof' as she made contact, nearly throwing him to the ground. He caught her midair, managing to get his arm underneath her legs so that she was sitting down as she threw her arms around his neck.

"Ouch, careful—," Soul said. "You're getting too big for that."

Maka smiled, shaking her head. While Soul was busy with Cori, she crouched down, gently touching Annie's shoulder.

"We're going home, Annie," she said.

To Maka's surprise, when Annie peeled herself away from Soul to look at her, she wasn't scared. Her face didn't have her usual, shy, uncertain expression.

Instead, she was grinning. A bright smile that went from ear to ear, reaching her eyes. It didn't have the same fire as Cori's smile, but it was there. While she was still puzzling this out, Annie drew back from Soul and threw her arms around Maka, who caught her automatically.

"I'm so glad you guys are okay," Annie said.

"Yeah," said Maka, tightening her grip around Annie. "I'm glad you're okay too."

The trip home was uneventful, especially when compared to the trip out, and the airship, battered, bruised, but still functional, landed in Death City just as the sun was beginning to set for the day. Maka said goodbye to Rei—who had been dragged away by his friends for a hug and group photo—and walked home with Soul, Cori and Annie. She held on to Cori's hand as they walked, and Annie rode on Soul's shoulders, her arms resting on the top of his head as he held onto her by the ankles. Maka smiled as Annie raised her hand, waving a cheerful goodbye to 'Crona-san' as they left the airship landing.

She was asleep by the time they rounded the next corner, and Cori was nodding off on her feet. Maka eventually gave in and let Cori ride on her back, and within seconds the child's head was pillowed on her shoulder, Cori snoring so softly that there was no doubt in Maka's mind that she was really asleep this time. She looked over at Soul as the two of them walked, the shadows gathering as the sun sank beneath the western horizon, the yellow moon rising up and gleaming for the first time in decades. She didn't realize until then how much she'd missed this—walking home in the moonlight.

"They're good kids," Soul said, his eyes moving over Cori. "Even when they pull off stunts like that."

"We did alright," said Maka with a smile, nodding. The smile faded from her face as she remembered something, something that had been nagging at her since she first found Cori and Bright Star in that barrel on the moon. "Still…there's something weird about all of this."

"Besides everything?" Soul asked, brows arching.

Maka shook her head. "Earlier," she said, "Back when I sensed Cori…I should have been able to sense her much earlier than that."

"You were distracted with other things," Soul said. "You weren't expecting Cori and Bright Star to turn up, so you weren't looking for them."

"That's just the thing, Soul," Maka said, looking at him. "I _didn't_ sense Bright Star. Even when I felt something was off, I still only felt Cori. I didn't start feeling Bright Star's wavelength until after we had already found him."

Soul stared at her, and she saw the moment the implications of what she was saying sank in, saw his eyes widen as he understood.

"Damn," he said.

"Yeah," said Maka, looking back at the road. "He's going to be scary someday."

"Well, he's Black Star's kid," said Soul, letting out a breath. "It would be weird if he wasn't."

"True," said Maka. "It'll be interesting to see how they all turn out."

The two of them turned onto their street and stopped suddenly, staring. Their house had become the center of activity, several police cars arrayed around it with lights flashing. As they watched, a harried-looking Spirit ran out from the knot of policemen, running over to her.

"Maka, I'm so sorry!" Spirit said, collapsing onto his knees on the cobblestones in front of her. "I don't know what happened. I turned around and she—and she—she was gone! And I've been looking all day, and I—."

"Calm down, old man," Soul said, inclining his head towards the girl sleeping on Maka's back. "We've got her."

Spirit's eyes widened, and he looked from Cori to Soul to Maka to Annie and back to Cori again.

Then he let out a sigh of relief, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he collapsed face-first onto the street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end of the Crona scene is brought to you by Psychadelic Souljam (from this anime's soundtrack). It's been fun, all! See you at the epilogue!


	52. The Best Laid Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are, exactly one year from the beginning of this fic (check the date). It's been amazing writing this, guys. Frustrating, exciting, full of all those ups and downs for me and for the characters in this story. Thanks for taking this journey with me.
> 
> Before we wrap it up, some of you might be asking what's next. Well, while I do definitely have ideas for continuing this fic, I think, and I hope you won't begrudge me this, that it's time for me to take a break. One year is the second-longest time I've ever worked on a single project, and I've been fighting off burnout for a while now. So as much as I hate to say it, I don't think you'll be seeing new Soul Eater content from me for a little while. I'm going to take a moment to breathe and work on other projects. I haven't yet decided if those are going to be original, or fanfiction, or both.
> 
> But, and I'm not making any promises here, you might see updates from me on one of my other fics. Those of you paying attention might have noticed I have both a Persona 4 fic and a Harry Potter fic going, and that I seem to have dropped both of those to pay attention to this story. I'm not promising that I'll go back to writing them, but I might. Keep an eye on the Harry Potter fic particularly; now that I've come to terms with the fact that I don't accept The Cursed Child as canon, you might be seeing a resurgence there.
> 
> And I'm not saying I'm never going to write Soul Eater content again. You might see one shots pop up every now and then, although I won't promise when. And hopefully, maybe, we'll see, fingers crossed, that slice-of-life sequel someday. Until then, stay tuned!
> 
> Well, that's it. That's all I've got. I'm not going to interrupt this fic with another note at the end, so this is the last you'll hear from me. Enjoy, and thanks for all the support.
> 
> Signing off for the last time,
> 
> FD
> 
> P.S: The amazing art in this chapter is by LianneSilver927. Check out her Tumblr for more!

**EPILOGUE**

**The Best Laid Plans**

* * *

Black Star stared at his wife, trying to understand why she was so mad at him.

Tsubaki almost _never_ got mad at him, as a general rule. Most of their friends agreed that she had the patience of a saint. Which made sense, since she was, after all, married to a god. He couldn't for the life of him figure out what she was so mad about now, considering he had done exactly what she had asked him to do.

Telling her that didn't seem to make it better.

"Tell me again," Tsubaki said, her eyes narrowing in fury. "What _exactly_ did you tell him?"

"Just what you said," said Black Star, frowning at her in confusion. "I told him he was too young to go to the DWMA. Told him he could go next year."

"And then what happened?" asked Tsubaki, resting her hands on her hips.

"And then he said he was going anyway," said Black Star. "So I told him we weren't going to take him there, and if he wanted to get to the DWMA this year, he'd have to walk."

"And then?" Tsubaki asked.

Black Star shrugged. "He walked."

"And you _let him_?" Tsubaki demanded.

"Well, yeah."

"Black Star…" Tsubaki drew in a deep breath, straightening up and pinching the bridge of her nose with one hand. She squeezed her eyes shut, taking a moment to gather up her thoughts before she turned towards him. "We're in _South America_!"

He stared at her blankly.

"Your point?"

* * *

Death City loomed in the distance, shimmering in a desert haze. A small figure walked up to a rocky outcropping overlooking it, dust clinging to his clothes. He came to a stop as he stared at the city, one hand reaching up to the scarf tied around his nose and mouth. He pulled it away, revealing a clear difference between the cleaner, less-tanned skin beneath the scarf and the darker, dustier skin around his eyes.

He looked over the city, green eyes shining in the bright desert sunlight.

Then, he grinned.

* * *

Rei closed his eyes and let the water fall over him, drawing in a deep breath as he tried to fight off the last vestiges of sleepiness. He had never really been a morning person, and six or so years of partnering with Ayame had only made it easier for him to train himself to wake up—it had never made him like it. A serious case of jet lag definitely didn't help matters. He leaned forward, propping himself up on the tiled wall, and closed his eyes. When he couldn't put it off any longer, he turned the water off and toweled himself dry, stepping out of the shower.

Ayame was waiting when he finally stepped out of the hotel bathroom, sprawled back onto the bed. She propped herself up on her elbows and grinned at him as he walked out, still toweling his hair.

"Took you long enough," she said. "Thought you drowned."

"It is way too early in the morning for this," Rei grumbled. "Especially after that flight last night. Just because we _can_ fly, doesn't mean they don't need to get us plane tickets." He held the towel loosely in his hand, gauging the distance between the towel and the bed. Before he could throw it, Ayame narrowed her eyes and he wisely decided to change his mind, hanging the towel up on the hook behind the bathroom door instead.

When he turned back around, Ayame was sitting up, pulling on her socks. "It's not like you have anything to complain about," she said. " _I_ did all the work. You just sat there."

"You were using my Grigori soul," Rei pointed out. "It's not like I wasn't doing anything."

"Whatever makes you feel better, princess," Ayame said. "But let me remind you that we didn't _need_ to fly our way over here. It's not like you can't turn your report in online."

Rei flushed, looking away to hide it as he slipped on his jacket. "Some things are better done in person, that's all."

"Sure, Rei," said Ayame, giving him a knowing smirk. "I'm sure that's the only reasonwhy you wanted to be in town today."

Rei sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Come on, Ayame, give me a break," he said. "Let's just get some coffee and go?"

"Sounds like a plan, Mr. Cool Guy," Ayame said, grinning as she jumped up to her feet. "After all, you wouldn't want to be _late_."

Rei rolled his eyes, following her out of the room. The place was DWMA housing, so it was slightly less fancy than an actual hotel room, but it was comfortable enough for a night or two, and given that they'd spent most of the past year bouncing around from branch to branch sleeping in everything from tents to barracks to borrowed houses, anything with a bed, an internet connection, and a decent expectation of privacy was more than enough. And it had the added bonus of being close to people he wanted to see.

The coffee shop was a block over, perfectly situated on one of the most common routes people took to get to the school. There was a small crowd of students seated at one of the tables when Rei walked in, but he moved past them, heading straight for the counter. A familiar young man was standing behind it, a grin on his face. He was speaking to a dark-haired woman in business attire who was casually stirring a cup of coffee.

"Two coffees please," Rei said, taking the stool next to the woman.

Vayne blinked in surprise, breaking away from his conversation. Across from him, Morgan only smiled, setting her spoon down on the saucer.

"Huh," Vayne said. "You made it here after all."

"We finally tracked down that murderer near the Russia branch yesterday," said Rei, propping his head up on his hand. "Had to report in."

Behind him, Ayame moved, gesturing in a way that Rei couldn't see, but that had both Vayne and Morgan exchanging smiles. He felt out with his Soul Perception, frowning in irritation, but she was already settled into her seat, leaning against the counter and tilting her head innocently.

"I see," Morgan said, sounding like she was hiding a laugh. "And how _are_ things going in Russia lately?"

"Cold," Rei said. "And depressing."

"And boring as all get out!" Ayame added, leaning over the counter. "I mean seriously. There for a month and only one dash cam incident."

"You guys are heading back pretty soon, then?" Vayne asked, turning around to get the coffees. He gave Rei a questioning look, motioning between a ceramic cup and a paper to-go cup. At Rei's return gesture, he started filling two to-go cups with coffee.

"No, thank Death," Rei said. "We've got a long-term posting."

"Two years," Ayame said, grinning proudly. _"At least_."

"For real?" Vayne asked. "I thought you two were going to do the whole world traveler thing for a while longer."

"Nah," Ayame said. "Been there, done that. I kind of miss having a home base, you know. Not having to live out of a box."

Rei snorted. "Try several boxes. What?" he asked, as Ayame glared at him. "I'm just saying, you didn't have to buy all that stuff—."

"Did I question you when you bought a new guitar that you don't even play?" Ayame asked. "No. No, I didn't. So hush."

"I play it," Rei said. "Sometimes."

Vayne and Morgan exchanged another knowing smile.

"So where is this posting?" Morgan asked, drawing Rei's attention back to her.

"East Asia!" Ayame said, before he could. "It's gonna be great."

"Heard Asuza's a slave driver, though," Rei said.

"Oh, suck it up," said Ayame, punching Rei in the arm. "We're going to _Japan_! Land of ninjas, and giant robots and cute anime holograms! And you know, my grandparents. And all of that boring history and culture stuff you like."

Rei shot her a look, rubbing at his sore arm. He looked back at Morgan and Vayne. "So you two are staying in Death City?" he asked.

"For the foreseeable," said Morgan, taking a sip of her coffee. "Ambassadorial duties mean I have to stay here or at the Assembly, and since Cassie's taken up a post as school librarian, it makes sense for me to be here."

"And Clark's decided to do the teacher thing, so here I am," Vayne said, shrugging. "The coffee shop isn't a bad gig in between missions anyway. Been thinking of expanding and serving drinks at night. You know, after I turn twenty-one anyway." He set their coffees down in front of them. "Rei, sugar and two creams, Ayame, two creams and enough sugar to kill a bear?"

"You got it," Rei said, taking a sip of coffee.

Ayame sipped at hers and let out a long sigh. "You're a lifesaver, Vayne."

"I try," Vayne said. "Oh, and hey, before you two go, try these. On the house."

He pulled a pair of scones out of a display case, placing them in a paper bag and setting them between Rei and Ayame. Rei blinked at him.

"Since when do you bake?" he asked, reaching for the bag.

"I—uh—don't," said Vayne, flushing. "I had a little help." He glanced at Morgan who only smiled, scrolling through something on her phone. Rei looked between them, feeling a smile coming onto his face.

"I see," he said, getting up. He fished some cash out of his pocket, leaving it on the countertop. "Well, we really should get going. Right Ayame?"

"Oh, _sure_ ," said Ayame, springing up to her feet guarding her coffee protectively. "You get to sip your coffee leisurely while we fly up to the school, but I have to chug it like I'm at some kind of coffee kegger because again, _I do all the work_."

Rei sighed. "Calm down," he said, taking her by the arm and leading her gently towards the door. "We'll walk."

* * *

Clark Greysteil had gone through a lot of growth in the six years since he had first entered the DWMA. He'd gone from being a would-be Casanova, halfway towards being the second coming of Spirit Albarn, to a quiet, thoughtful, somewhat dorky kid who occasionally got tongue-tied when a pretty girl walked into the room. The fact that he was also one of the DWMA's best fighters was incidental.

And in Stein's opinion, he was still entirely too twitchy.

"Calm down," Stein said, drumming his class roster on the backrest of his chair. "They're only students. There's no need to be nervous."

"But what if they don't like me?" Clark asked, tugging nervously at the collar of his button-down shirt.

"Well that's why you're the teaching assistant and not the teacher," Stein said, frowning down at the folder in his hand as if he had only just noticed it was there. "They don't have to like you."

"But what if they hate me? Or try to challenge me to a fight? What if I _hurt_ them?" He paused in the middle of his tirade, frowning at Stein as if he had just realized something. "Speaking of which, why did they assign me to you anyway? We're both kind of…"

"Yes?" Stein asked, cranking his bolt with his free hand. "Both kind of what?"

"Uh—susceptible," Clark said. "To…you know…" He gestured vaguely. "…things."

"Things?" Stein's brows rose, his head lifting slightly so that he could see Clark better.

"You know…" Clark said, reaching up and rubbing at the back of his neck. "Uh—madness."

Ah. Those _things_.

"You can stop worrying," Stein said, cracking open the roster for the first time. "It's not like we'll be assigned a student whose very biology causes outbreaks of madness to spontaneously appear around her."

Clark let out the breath he was holding, sighing as he lowered his hands back to his side. "Yeah, you're right. Everything will be fine. Nothing to worry about."

Stein wasn't listening to him. His eyes moved steadily down the list, scanning through the names. When he reached one, he paused, blinking down at it.

"Hmm…" he said.

Clark looked back at him, alarmed. "Hmm?" he repeated. "What was the 'hmm?' for?"

Stein's eyes moved over the name again, mentally calling up a picture of the student in question.

_Evans, Anima – Weapon_

"Nothing," he said, shutting the folder with a snap. "Nothing at all."

* * *

"Come on, Annie, hurry up!" Cori said, shifting from foot to foot outside of their shared bathroom. "Mom left already! We're gonna be late!"

A nervous squeak emanated from somewhere in the bathroom, followed by the sound of several bottles toppling. She could hear her sister moving around inside, presumably scrambling to put everything back in order. "One—ah—one second!" Annie shouted back, her voice muffled through the door. "I'm just— _aha_!"

The door swung open and Annie bounced out, struggling to keep her balance while she fiddled with her tights. Cori took a step back to give her space, blinking as she took in Annie's appearance. Her sister had traded out her usual black dress for a multi-layered ruffled skirt, black tights, and a sleeveless shirt with a high collar. She wore a pair of black lacy fingerless gloves that Cori hadn't noticed before, and she'd tied her long hair into a pair of thick white pigtails, with—and that was new—pink streaks running through them in places.

Cori sniffed the air, and could have sworn she still smelled the hair dye.

"Well," she said. "That's new."

Annie gave her a shy smile, straightening up and adjusting one of her hair ties. "I wanted to do something different for school," she said. "Is it bad?"

"No, it's not," Cori said, abruptly wondering whether she should try to do something else with her hair besides her usual black hairband. She tugged at her own hair self-consciously, pushing it back over her shoulder. "It's just—uh—different. You got new clothes too?"

"Yeah," said Annie with a nervous giggle. "Last minute shopping trip, you—uh—you know?"

So that was what Annie had been up to when Cori had dragged her to the mall's music store. Somehow, she always thought Annie had been shopping for books.

Well, _anyway_ , her twin's changed appearance wasn't really something she had time to think about right now. Cori shook her head, making a mental note to bring it up later as she reached forward, grabbing Annie by one lacy wrist.

"Well, come on," she said. "Let's go! We're going to be late!"

"Ah—wait!" said Annie, struggling to keep up as Cori started dragging her down the stairs. "C-Cori! We have a whole hour!"

Cori ignored her, stopping only at the door to grab shoes before dragging the both of them out into the sunshine. Annie squeaked, blinking in the sudden desert sunlight. The two of them slowed down only when they were out on the street, and Annie sighed and shook her head, rubbing at her wrist where Cori had grabbed her as she started walking next to Cori.

"I don't know why you're in such a hurry," Annie said. "We just need to find partners. We have all day."

"If we don't get there soon, all the good partners will be gone!" Cori said. "We can't just take whoever's left. You more than me. You know that you need—."

"—someone with the Anti-Magic Wavelength so that resonating with me doesn't drive them absolutely crazy," Annie finished, letting out another soft sigh. "Cori, _I know_."

"I just want to be sure you're okay," Cori said, looking over at her. "I mean, we've really never been apart before, you know. Except for…"

"Yeah…" said Annie, looking away. "Except for that…"

Sadness and reminiscing about past kidnappings was _not_ how Cori had planned for this day to go. "Anyway, I just want to make sure you're settled!" Cori said, quickly changing the subject. "Can you blame me?"

Annie glanced at her, giving her a small exasperated smile. "You've told me this ten times already, Cori," she said. "I'm pretty sure I can remember that. Anyway, whatever happens will happen."

"No!" Cori said sharply, jabbing her finger at Annie. "None of that fatalistic, 'I'll end up with whoever I'm meant to be with' crap! Today, Annie, we take charge of our own destiny!" She balled up one of her hands into a fist and rested the other on her hip, fire and passion in her eyes. It was a great line and perfect delivery, which is why it was so annoying that when Cori looked over her shoulder, Annie wasn't there.

"Crona-san!" Annie said from the end of the street, waving at someone around the corner. "Hello!"

Cori sighed, hurrying to catch up with her sister. Crona was coming down the cross street, a shy smile on his face. Her face? Cori didn't really know, but one thing was for sure. Crona was looking…just slightly more feminine these days. Shinigami's counterpart had taken to wearing a long black dress, pink hair pulled into a loose braid that he had draped over his shoulder.

Figuring Crona out was an exercise in confusion, but Cori still meant to do it someday. Today, however, was not one of those days. Crona was looking harried, trying to track down a group of three or four small children dressed in Shibuko orphanage uniforms, which was made even more difficult considering he didn't seem to want to raise his voice or speak to them at anything more than a nervous mumble.

"Hello, Annie-chan," Crona said, giving her a shy smile as he tugged his robe out of one child's hands. "N-No, no, don't touch that. Mayuri-chan wait—don't go there. Ah—hang on a second."

A good whistle and shout would get all of the kids back in line, but Cori didn't have time to help just now, and neither did Annie. She attempted to point that out to her by walking up to her sister, tapping her once on the shoulder. "Come on," she said. "We need to _go_."

"Um...actually…" Annie hesitated, looking back over her shoulder with a smile. "You go ahead. I need to talk to Crona-san for a bit."

Cori gaped at her, flabbergasted. Did she not see how important all of this was? "Annie—," she began.

"I know, I know," said Annie, looking sheepish. "I just—you know. It's about—," she made a sweeping gesture with one hand in explanation, managing to encompass her entire body. "But you can go ahead! I'll catch up with you soon."

Cori frowned, pursing her lips as she considered her options. Stay with Annie and risk losing out on her soulmate forever? Not an option. Grab Annie by the waist and physically haul her away? Kind of hard to do when her twin's blood could literally become iron. But go on without her?

"We're supposed to do this together," Cori said, a note of uncertainty in her voice as she met Annie's eyes. "We do everything together."

"And we will," Annie said. "Just—in a little bit, okay? I'll catch up."

Cori sighed, taking a step back and running a hand through her hair. She could push Annie sometimes, but she also knew that when her twin dug her heels in and looked at her like that, she was immovable. No point in fighting the inevitable. This could still go according to plan. She would just be…an advance party. Scouting out the area. Yeah, that was it.

"Okay, fine," she said. "I'll see you in a bit. Don't take too long."

Annie gave her a grateful smile. "Thanks!" she said. "I'll see you soon."

"I'll try and find a meister for you," Cori said, already beginning to jog towards the school. "No promises though!"

"I appreciate it!" Annie called back, just as Cori disappeared around the corner. Leaving her sister behind. On their first day of school at the DWMA. On what was possibly the biggest day of their entire lives.

Oh well. No big deal. Things were still going according to plan.

* * *

As Cori Evans charged up the stairs that led to the DWMA, she passed a second figure, that of a student dressed in a long coat, a newsboy cap pulled over their light brown hair. The student struggled to make their way up the long flight of steps, their breathing coming in harsh pants, but on the inside, they were happy. They were happy because this was the day that they would finally have a normal life, the day that they could put this nonsensical weapon bloodline behind them and start worrying about logical things—like deduction and inquiry.

Today—today was the day that they would finally join the N.O.T. class at the DWMA.

And so it was with pride that the student hoisted themselves up the last flight of stairs, sucking in a breath of air as they faced the school. They would enter here a freak of nature and leave a normal, productive member of society. The student drew themselves up to their full height, taking a step forward—

—Only to get snatched up by a small figure in a travel-stained cloak, who grabbed them around the arm and started dragging them towards the school.

The student spluttered.

"Hey—what—?!" the student asked in protest as they struggled to keep up.

The interloper glanced back at them, a gleam in his green eyes. He grinned and said only one word in explanation for his behavior.

"Partner."

In that word, the student could feel their plans, their dreams, their carefree life steadily slipping away.

* * *

Annie watched as Cori ran towards the school, a small smile on her face as she clasped her hands behind her back. The smile faded as she turned to face Crona, shifting her weight back and forth nervously.

"Is something wrong, Annie-chan?" Crona asked, frowning at her.

"No," Annie said. "Not really."

It was hard to explain, this fear that had been creeping up inside of her. Annie was used to random fears—they had been a part of her life for so long—but they usually had a source that she could point to. Something that she could be afraid _of._ An easy answer would be to say that she was just scared of starting at the DWMA, except she wasn't, not really. She was a little nervous, sure, but she was looking forward to the DWMA. It was really just everything that came with it.

Crona was watching her, his head tilted slightly to the side. Annie sighed and stopped rocking, unclasping her hands from behind her back. She held up one delicate hand, the tip of her forefinger becoming a thin scythe blade as she pricked at her thumb. A thin tendril of black blood rose from the wound, sharpening into a needle-like shape before twisting and coiling in a handful of random patterns. Crona watched the tendril shift shapes, a mixture of wariness and rapt attention on his features.

"I've been practicing," Annie said. "Like you said. I think I can control it now, maybe. A little. But…"

"But what if you can't?" Crona asked, finishing the thought for her.

Annie nodded, drawing the black blood back into herself. It went, forming a seal over the wound as it did. Crona frowned as he thought about it.

"That's scary," he said.

Annie nodded, hanging her head. "It is."

"But you'll be at the DWMA," said Crona. "So someone will be able to help you if that happens. Like Maka, or your sister."

"Or my partner?" Annie asked.

"Or that," Crona said. "Um, probably."

Annie drew in a deep breath, gathering up her courage. She raised her head, nodding at him as she lowered her hands back to her side. "Alright," she said. "I should…probably go now. Thank you, Crona-san."

"Have a good day," Crona said as she left, waving at her.

And then she was alone, walking through the city streets. Annie tugged uncertainly at her hair, running her fingers through one of her pigtails as she made her way slowly up to the school. A nearby clock on one of the street corners told her that orientation was beginning, but it didn't really matter if she was late. There would be plenty of time to find partners, despite what Cori said.

She could do this, she told herself, taking deep calming breaths. She wasn't going to be afraid. She wasn't going to cling to her sister anymore. She was going to do this _right_.

She was so caught up in thinking about that that she didn't notice the boy making his way down one of the cross streets until she crashed into him, walking into him hard enough to knock them both over onto the pavement. Annie landed hard on her rear, wincing as she hit the ground. She looked up, her eyes wide as she realized what had happened.

"Oh gosh, are you okay?" she asked, jumping to her feet and running over to the boy she had hit. He was sprawled out onto his back on the pavement, staring up at the blue sky. "I'm so sorry, I didn't look where I was going, I—."

"It—It's okay," the boy groaned, starting to push himself up. He had an accent that sounded vaguely Spanish, but it was one Annie couldn't immediately place. He was wearing a hoodie, jeans, and sneakers, and his hair was dark, hanging over one of his eyes from the inside of his hood. "I'm alright. Are you okay?"

He held up a hand and Annie automatically reached out to help him up. The boy frowned at her, tilting his head to the side as he looked at her hand.

"Are you…bleeding?" he asked, his eyes fixed on her thumb.

Bleeding. Annie looked down at her hand, her eyes widening as she realized which hand it was. She let out a terrified squeak and snatched her hand back, leaping away from him. He blinked at her in confusion, sitting up.

"S-Sorry," Annie said, shaking her hand out nervously. "It's just that—I have a cut and—and my blood does weird things to your mind, unless you have the Anti-Magic Wavelength and even then it's kind of unsure and I don't want you to get hurt and this is so embarrassing, I usually have this under much better control, but it's the first day of school and I—."

"Anti…Magic Wavelength…" he repeated, frowning as if he was considering that. Annie quickly snapped her mouth shut, looking over at him. His expression was far off, his mouth moving as he spoke under his breath. She heard him mutter the words _"contra magia"_ before his expression brightened, his eyes widening as he looked back up at her. "Oh, I have that!" he said. "Don't worry about it!"

"You do?" Annie asked, blinking. "Honestly?"

He nodded. "It runs in my family."

"Well, mine too, kinda," Annie said, tucking a strand of hair back behind her ear as she let out a nervous giggle. Her eyes widened as she realized he was still on the ground and she quickly stretched her hand out again, this time not flinching as he grabbed it and used it to pull himself up to his feet. She watched him carefully for any sign of madness, but she found nothing. Annie sighed in relief.

"So, your blood is…black?" the boy asked, frowning at her.

"It's kind of my thing," Annie said. "I know it's a little bit weird, but—um—Death City, right?" She gave him a nervous smile, and then her face flushed gray when she realized he was still holding her hand. Annie quickly yanked it away, hiding it behind her back. "Um—s-sorry about that. I'm Anima, but my friends call me Annie. Or they would if I had any friends. Oh—uh—did I say that out loud? Um—this is embarrassing, usually my sister is here, and she kind of does the talking. I'm rambling, aren't I?"

"Little bit," said the boy, blinking at her in confusion.

"S-Sorry," said Annie. "Let's try that again." She drew in a deep breath, holding her hand out to him and putting a smile on her face. "Hi, I'm Annie. It's nice to meet you."

He glanced down at her hand and clasped it quickly before releasing it. "Diego," he said. "I just arrived here yesterday. I'm starting at the school."

"Are you?" Annie asked, tilting her head to the side. An idea struck her. "Weapon or meister?"

"Meister, actually," said Diego.

"Huh," said Annie. "Well, that's an interesting coincidence, Diego. You see, I happen to be a weapon."

"Are you?" Diego asked, his eyes widening.

"Yep," said Annie. "Last I checked anyway. So…um, if you don't mind, how about we walk up to the school together? I think there's something I want to ask you…"

* * *

Bright Star dragged his struggling new partner over towards the registration desk, where Sid sat at a table just outside of the school, the new librarian beside him. Cassandra Crane watched him with curiosity as he made his way over to the desk, her eyes going from him to the clipboard in front of her.

"Bright Star, I didn't know you were enrolling this year," she said.

"That's because he's not," said Sid, his eyes narrowing as he folded his arms over his chest. "You're too young. You have to be at least twelve to enroll at the DWMA."

"I'm twelve," Bright Star said, placing a hand over his chest for emphasis. Apparently, Sid wasn't moved by that, nor was he particularly moved by Bright Star drawing an 'x' over his heart in a display of honesty.

"Bright Star, I know how old you are," Sid said, scowling at him. "You can come back next year."

"I'm twelve," Bright Star insisted.

"You're _eleven_ ," said Sid.

Bright Star shrugged. "Twelve in January," he said.

"Then come back in January." Sid settled back into his chair, looking away from Bright Star to show that the conversation was over, then paused as if he had just remembered something and looked up. "Wait a minute," he said. "Do your parents know where you are?"

"They know," Bright Star said, which was technically true. His dad knew where he was, and if his mom didn't know about it when he left, she would know by now.

"Don't tell me you walked here!" said Sid, sitting up. He gave Bright Star another look over, as if seeing his traveling clothes for the first time.

"Did," said Bright Star. An idea occurred to him, and he turned himself halfway away from Sid, lowering his head to look appropriately penitent. "Going to walk back now."

"Wait—Bright Star—," said Sid, reaching a hand out over the table to stop him. Bright Star paused, looking back at the zombie.

Beside him, Cassie was pursing her lips, a pen pressed to them as she looked at him from over her glasses. Her eyes were slightly glazed over, as if she was thinking. The clarity came back into them, and she turned towards Sid.

"Maybe we could let him enroll?" she asked. "He _is_ almost twelve."

"Almost my foot," Sid grumbled, but he fished out a class list anyway, grabbing a pen from Cassie. "But, might as well. He's not going to leave us alone until we do anyway."

"Don't tell Shinigami-sama," said Cassie, giving Bright Star a smile.

Bright Star smiled back as Sid filled out the form, miming drawing a zipper over his mouth.

"You're going to need a partner," Sid said with some reluctance, handing over a tag that had the word "MEISTER" written on it. "And you're going to have a tough time. This year's E.A.T. class was uneven to begin with, and we have that one weapon wanting to go autonomous—."

"—Partner," Bright Star interrupted, holding up the weapon's arm. His new partner turned his body away from him, one hand over his face as if he couldn't believe this was happening. Sid squinted at him.

"Aren't you in the N.O.T. class?" he asked.

"I was," said the boy, profound regret in his tone.

"And you're okay with switching over to the E.A.T. class?"

"Do I have a choice?"

Sid looked from the boy to Bright Star, still holding firmly onto the boy's forearm. He looked back at the boy. "Honestly, not really."

The boy sighed, looking back at Sid. "Fine then," he said. "Just get it over with."

"Aaron Doyle, was it?" Cassie asked, giving him a sympathetic smile. "I can take care of switching you over right now. You'll be in Class Crescent Moon, with Professor Franken Stein. Oh, look, that's him over there."

Cassie pointed at something behind them, the two of them turning to watch as Stein rolled his chair through the doors of the DWMA, the chair catching on a loose cobble and sending him spilling out onto the courtyard. Students yelped, jumping out of the way as he came to a stop, staring up at the sky with an expression of vague bewilderment on his face.

"Great," Aaron said, expression fixed in a perfect deadpan, as if he had been expecting something like this to happen all along. "Just…great."

* * *

"So where's this sister of yours?" said a blond boy with an Australian accent, peering down the DWMA's steps at the city below.

"Oh, she'll be here," Cori said, folding her arms impatiently. She drummed her fingers along her arm, frowning as she looked down at the steps. "Any minute now."

_Any minute now…_

Cori waited, standing with the blond boy beneath the desert sun. She could feel the kid on her other side, a young meister with the Anti-Magic Wavelength that Cori had singled out for Annie, squirming with impatience and wanted to hiss at him to settle down. Given that she wanted to make a good impression on her new partner though, she held her tongue. The sun beat down from overhead, the minutes ticking away as slow as molasses and finally, just when Cori was about to give up and suggest they wait inside, she saw her sister walking up the steps, some boy in a hoodie climbing the steps behind her. Annie smiled as she caught sight of Cori, raising her hand in a wave.

"Finally," Cori muttered under her breath.

"Huh," said the Australian boy, looking between her and Annie. "You two really are twins."

Cori ignored him for a moment, seizing her sister by the arm as Annie reached the top of the steps. "You're late," she said. "I was getting worried, and—who's this?" The last was said because the hoodie boy had come to a stop just over Annie's shoulder, his hands in his pockets as he looked quizzically between Annie and Cori.

"Oh, this is my new meister," said Annie, brightly. "Cori, Diego. Diego, this is my sister, Cori."

"It's nice to meet you," said Diego, holding out a hand.

"Uh—yeah." Cori blinked, nonplussed. She clasped Diego's hand quickly, then released him, shoving at the kid she had picked out for Annie. "Beat it," she hissed under her breath.

The kid rubbed at his arm and stumbled off, muttering angrily as he walked away. Cori reached behind her and grabbed the Australian boy by the arm, tugging him forward to join her. "This is Connor," she said. "My new meister."

"G'day," said Connor, nodding at Annie and Diego.

Annie smiled at him. "Australia, huh?" she asked.

"How'd you guess?" Connor asked, returning the smile. He glanced at Diego. "Is that a fox on your hoodie, mate?"

Diego blinked, looking down at the design on the front of his jacket. "No, it's a badger. I picked it up before getting on my flight."

"Ah, bit warm out for that, isn't it?"

Cori watched as Connor and Diego stepped away to talk, then quickly reached out and pulled Annie towards her. Annie yelped but went, letting Cori lead her away from the two boys.

"Cori, what—?" Annie asked, straightening herself out.

"Are you sure?" Cori hissed.

Annie blinked at her. "Sure about what?" she asked.

"Diego," said Cori, inclining her head towards the two of them. "I mean, he seems nice enough, but…"

"But?" Annie asked, tilting her head to the side.

"But—well—you know what always happens in our family with partners, right?"

Annie stared at her, wide-eyed and confused. "Not following," she said.

Cori let out an impatient breath, letting go of her sister's arm. "Annie," she said. "We always end up _marrying our partners_."

Annie looked at her for a long moment, stunned. Her mouth opened then closed, then opened again, and she shook her head. When she finally found her voice, she looked back up at Cori. "Cori, that doesn't mean anything!" she said.

"Yes it does!" said Cori. "Look, Grandpa married Grandma, Mom married Dad, and let's face it—it's really just a matter of time before Rei proposes to Ayame. It's a real thing!"

"Whatever happened to fighting fate?" Annie asked. "Uh—taking control of our own destiny?"

Cori sniffed, pushing her hair back over her shoulder with one hand. "That was about _choosing_ our partners. I know how to pick my battles," she said, gesturing at Connor with her chin. "I mean look, Connor's fairly good-looking, he's nice, he knows his way around a social situation, and he likes the same music. Sounds like a win to me."

Annie gaped at her. "Cori, we're _thirteen_ ," she said.

"I'm just planning for my future," said Cori, straightening up. "I mean, if this is what's going to happen, I need to be prepared. Because let's face it…Grandma could probably have done so much better."

"But what if you don't end up _liking_ Connor like that?" Annie asked.

"Oh, it'll happen," said Cori, eyeing Connor out of the corner of her eye. "I mean, maybe I don't feel that way right now, but it's bound to happen someday. Just you wait."

"But what if—."

"Annie," said Cori, cutting her off. "I've put a lot of thought into this. I'm pretty sure I know what kind of person I'm going to end up liking and Connor is it, so—." She broke off abruptly, catching sight of something out of the corner of her eye.

A student was walking past, a slender girl her age in a blouse and pleated skirt, with long red hair tied in a braid behind her. Her skin was smooth and pale, her eyes a bright gold. Her eyes were fixed ahead of her, and she carried herself tall as she swept past Cori, the wind tugging strands of her hair free of her braid. A tag with the word WEAPON on it was pinned just over the gentle rise of her chest.

Cori's jaw dropped. Her heart suddenly seemed to be going a mile a minute and all the blood had rushed to her face. Her stomach exploded in butterflies.

"Cori?" Annie asked, waving a hand in front of her face as Cori turned to watch the girl. "Cori? Hello? Uh—earth to Cori."

The girl stepped into the crowd of students and Cori returned to reality, her eyes widening in horror as she came to a realization. The blood drained from her face, and she looked from Connor to the girl to Connor to the girl again.

No, she thought to herself, feeling herself start to panic. No, that couldn't be. That had to be wrong. She couldn't be—

"Cori?" Annie asked, prodding her with a finger. "Cori, are you… _okay_?"

Cori shook her head, still stunned as she stared after the girl.

"No," she said. "No, no, no, no. This is not happening."

"What's not?" Annie asked. "What's not happening?"

"What's up, Corp?" Connor asked, looking back at her. "Why are you staring at Minerva?"

Cori straightened up and looked back at him, eyes wide, mind caught between two conflicting realizations. Because on one hand—this was horrible, and awful, and _totally_ messed with her plans for the entire school year and for her whole life, and on the other—

Minerva.

So that was her name.

* * *

Bright Star's new apartment was set on the third floor of a building not far from the school. It was a little small and a little dusty in places, because the DWMA hadn't really been expecting to lease it out to anyone this year, but he liked it just fine. He liked the angry phone call he had gotten from his mother a lot less, but he had a feeling she would eventually get over it. He smiled, walking down the hallway of his place as he made for his partner's room.

"Aaron—," Bright Star said, opening the door without knocking.

He froze. His partner was seated in a desk chair, back to the door and head turned towards him. There was a puzzled expression on the weapon's face. Aaron had changed from his coat and cap to more comfortable sleep clothes. He was now wearing what looked like a pair of shorts and a tank top, and the slight curves just visible from beneath the tank top made Bright Star instantly reconsider his initial assessment of his partner.

He gaped, and his weapon scowled at him.

" _What_?"

Bright Star raised his hand, pointing at her. "A—A—Aaron—," he choked out, confused.

The girl in front of him frowned at him, brows knitting close together. Then, understanding came over her and she spun around to face him.

" _E-rin_ ," she said. "My name is _Erin."_

* * *

**THE END**

** **

* * *

**Omake**

"Alright, so, I have a question," Ayame said, looking over at Rei from across their new low table.

"Shoot," said Rei.

"I'm Japanese, right?"

"Mm-hmm."

"And you're a quarter Japanese."

"Yep."

"And we…" Ayame frowned, gesturing between them as if she was trying to figure something out, "…we both speak Japanese."

"Pretty much," said Rei.

"Read it too."

"More or less."

"And we're both ninjas?"

"You more than me, but for argument's sake, sure," said Rei, nodding.

"So this is what I don't get," said Ayame, drawing in a deep breath and setting her chopsticks down on top of her bowl. "Why are we in Korea?!"

Rei shrugged at her, leaning back against one of their unpacked boxes as he looked over at Ayame's meal.

"You going to eat that fishcake?" he asked.


End file.
